The Legend of Wither: Heaven's Sword
by The Wandering King
Summary: Wither believes that only his ultimate power can put an end to the onslaught of their foes. However, the Chronicler contacts Wither with the barest remnants of his power to inform him of a way to defeat Malefor. Now Wither and his friends must journey across Avalar to the White Isle to consult with Ignitus and learn the hidden truth behind Malefor's partial control over the Void.
1. Chapter 1-Oh, Death

Chapter 1-Oh, Death

It was the most silent part of the night when a dragon suddenly appeared out of thin air in the middle of a park in Warfang. Both of the moons were no longer in sight, but it would still be a couple of hours before dawn, which meant that everyone in the city was still deeply asleep save those who had guard duty along the protective wall that encompassed the metropolis. The grass was laden with glassy beads of dew that smeared over the paws and tail of the dragon. He was smallish for his age, though he still carried himself with an air of confidence. His form melded into his surroundings in the dark, courtesy of the dull grey monochrome of his scales.

The park was a public place visited by many a citizen seeking a respite from the demands of the war, but the tiny clearing the young dragon waited in was hemmed in by thick trees and shrubbery. Few even knew of the existence of this secluded hideaway, which was one of the reasons why it was selected as the designated meeting spot. He didn't have to wait long. Within five minutes of his arrival a white dragoness—whose very presence forced the shadows to retreat—appeared before him just as he had.

She was a marvel to look at. She possessed scales that always refracted the light around her body, which produced glistening dots that danced around her as she moved in the day, but which emanated a silvery, wavering nimbus around her at night. Her iridescent wing membranes reminded him of the summers in years past when moles would walk through the park and blow bubbles for the children, their round oily surfaces a swirling mix of every color imaginable. The young dragoness wore a necklace with a palladium chain and a glossy black crystal roughly the size of her paw set into the head.

Once the dragoness appeared the two of them drew closer together and spoke in hushed whispers just in case any cheetahs were out on their early morning jogs. They had surprisingly acute hearing. The dragoness shivered in the brisk, moist air. The other wrapped his tail around hers and leaned in, covering her with a wing. "Are you getting the hang of shifting?"

The dragoness' eyebrows knit together and she nodded once. "It's not so difficult once you understand the idea. I still don't see how you do it so fast, though."

"I've had more practice." The young dragon felt something stir in his mind and felt far away eyes upon him. He sent the consciousness a dismissive thought and the studious gaze was lifted, though he still felt the presence nestled in the deepest synapses of his mind. "Yarrow's keeping an eye on us. He seems to think we're up to something naughty."

The dragoness snorted. "Well, can you blame him?" Her tail tightened around his own. "This would look awfully suspicious if someone just happened upon us."

He smiled and said, "I suppose so." He allowed his smile to fade away slowly before addressing her again. "So, I take it you had the dream again?"

She nodded and took a deep breath. "Woke me up right along with you I suspect." When he didn't say anything she looked up at him. "Wither, what does it mean?"

He shook his head, lost in thought. "I don't know, Renna," he looked at her then, "but we're going to find out."

"It's always the same thing," she said, looking up into the endless sea of stars. "There's darkness all around and I'm all alone, then there's this big drop in front of me. I can't really see it because everything is black, but I can feel it there. And someone keeps telling me to step over the edge. I don't want to, but the voice keeps insisting. The more I resist the more I get this feeling that something is there with me creeping closer, reaching out to me and then. . ." She looked back into Wither's eyes. "Then you come and pull me out of the darkness, away from the edge."

Wither nodded along with her description of the dream. Ever since the day he had rescued half of her from the depths of the Void and placed her soul back inside her body they had shared the same dream from time to time. That was four months ago. It had started off slow in the beginning. They would only have the dream a couple times a week at night and no more than a mild hallucination about every other day, the contents of which neither could remember, but was noted by their masters and friends when they stood silent and still together for an abnormal amount of time. The only reason why they knew it was a hallucination was because they were left with the vague impression that they had had one after the fact.

At first it was a point of mild concern on the part of the elders. However, as the weeks progressed their condition advanced. The time gaps they shared during the day became much more frequent, happening as many as five times a day. Now the dreams came every night and each morning Renna and Wither looked more and more bedraggled with dark circles around their eyes and faces lined with fatigue.

Yarrow, the Grand High Elder and leader of Warfang was at a loss for what to do about the situation. The rest of the elders would cast worried glances at the two of them each day when they thought the younglings weren't looking. Their friends talked with them about the dreams and did their best to make sense of them, but had no better luck than the elders.

The worst reactions were those of their parents. They hovered over the both of them night and day now. Renna had confessed to Wither a couple weeks prior that she had started sleeping with her parents at their insistence so that they could be there to calm her down from her dreams and lull her back to sleep with the help of some herbs.

Wither's parents now took turns placing powerful spells over him at night to try to keep him in a deep sleep and hold the dreams at bay. This had worked at first, but then his elemental power of non-being began to eat away at the enchantments in his sleep and he would wake in the throes of the life-like dreams despite their efforts.

This night was no different. They had woken for what seemed like the hundredth time now, breathing heavily and covered in sweat. It was always the same. So they met in the secret place in the park as they had agreed earlier the previous day. Both had crept from their parents' rooms without waking them and shifted here. Wither by right of his innate abilities; Renna by virtue of the crystal he had given her, which granted her the ability to use many of his powers. It was just a chance to get away, to be together with the only other person who could understand what the other was going through. It was a small comfort, but one they both cherished.

Wither sat down on the wet grass and Renna sat next to him. He stared into the shadows at the edge of the tiny clearing and mulled the dream over yet again. "For me it's a little different. Sometimes you're there, sometimes you're not. But always there's this voice. It keeps telling me to step over the edge as well. I'm there, standing in front of it, and the voice is talking to me. It tells me that I'm special, that I can do anything. Sometimes, in the dream, I do step over the edge, and when I do everything opens up in my head. It's like—suddenly I know everything—like I am everything. Then I wake up, because the feeling is so strong."

It had taken a while for the two of them to begin to remember what their dreams were about. Memories of the events always faded so easily, but after seeing the same images night after night and day after day, they began to leave an imprint that neither of them could forget. It had been a month since they reported their memories of their dreams and visions to Yarrow. He had not seemed surprised by the revelation, but he was troubled, of that they were certain.

Though Yarrow had not gone with them so as to remain connected to the city, Spyro and Cynder, Wither's parents, had gone with him into the Void to investigate the presence of a being that they suspected of lurking within its infinite depths, but nothing revealed itself during their time there. As a result, there were no leads on what to do about Wither and Renna's condition. All they could do was wait and see.

Renna rested her head on his shoulder. "I just want it to stop. I know these dreams are trying to tell us something, but whatever it is, they aren't helping. They need to just stop. They're driving us crazy."

"Maybe that's the point," said Wither.

Renna lifted her head and stared up at Wither. "How do you mean?"

"If you really wanted somebody to do something, whether they wanted to or not, wouldn't you do anything to get them to do it? Wouldn't you make them want to do it if only for some peace? I don't know what this 'edge' is or how we're supposed to step over it, but someone wants us to find it and take that step. I just want to know who that someone is."

They stayed together and watched the stars for a while, simply enjoying each other's company. At some point they must have finally managed to nod off again, because Wither awoke to the sound of buzzing inside his own head. He could feel the hum of all the minds in Warfang waking and readying themselves for another grueling day on the wall. Through the hum sounded the voices of his parents, establishing prominence over the general drone of the masses. _"Wither, where are you?"_ That was his father.

Wither's eyes popped open and for a few dizzying moments he couldn't remember where he was. Then, as his body shifted, he felt something warm press firmly against his belly. An instant later he looked down and saw Renna nestled up against him, her eyes closed and her breathing even. He had a foreleg and a wing draped over her and his tail was still entwined with hers in a tight double helix. In his exhaustion he couldn't remember falling asleep.

" _Wither, answer us."_ That was his mother.

" _Sorry, still waking up."_

" _Wither, where are you? You're supposed to stay with us at night."_ Wither knew that his father wasn't upset with him for the reason he sounded. The city was safe at night. Malefor's armies never tried anything past sundown, at least not yet. Wither could feel through the mental link Yarrow kept open for everyone that his father was concerned about his rest. His parents wanted to be there for him to put him to sleep when he inevitably woke up.

" _I met up with Renna last night. We couldn't sleep. But I guess we both fell asleep after a while. She's here with me, but she's still out."_ Wither sent his parents a mental image of the park, but left out the clearing. He didn't want anyone to disturb them.

" _We'll inform Mesa and Glacianne,"_ said Spyro, referring to Renna's parents. _"But in the future it would be best if you didn't leave in the middle of the night. And you certainly shouldn't be sleeping in a secluded place with Renna. It's not decent, son."_

Wither felt a flutter in his chest and stared back down at Renna. His face felt hot. _"It's not like we're alone. Yarrow kept an eye on us all night."_

" _It's true,"_ came the voice of the ancient himself as his presence rose out of the valleys of Wither's consciousness. _"They merely talked, finding solace together by confiding to one another their worries and other such troublesome thoughts. It did them some good, I think. They slept well these past two hours. I think it would be unwise to allow that rest to go to waste. I shall continue to monitor them. At the very least Renna can get some more sleep. Wither, you ought to try to get more rest as well."_

" _Sure, Yarrow."_ Wither was certainly keen on the idea of getting more rest, especially in such good company.

" _But Yarrow, he's already awake,"_ said Cynder. _"We could use him on the wall."_

" _And what if Malefor attacks with more of the unsung today? Or perhaps he'll deem today a good time to sick more of those wretched forgotten on us? Where would Renna be then? All alone."_

" _She has the crystal to protect her,"_ said Spyro.

There was a pause while Wither's parents waited for Yarrow's next volley. Then he said, _"Look, I'm just going to be blunt. If Wither moves, it'll wake the poor dragoness."_

Wither winced at Yarrow's rather forward answer. There was another pause while his mother and father quietly absorbed this information. Then his father said, _"When you are ready, meet me at the northern wall."_

The connection cut out promptly and Wither mentally rounded on Yarrow. _"Really?"_

" _Oh, calm yourself. They're not going to be angry with you. I promise. Though I can't guarantee you won't get an embarrassing lecture tonight."_ Yarrow was clearly amused at Wither's dismay. There was a particular frequency to the telepathic hum in his voice that gave it away.

" _Even so,"_ said Wither, _"I would appreciate a little more discretion in the future. The only reason I allowed you to watch us last night was so we'd have an alibi, but don't think I enjoyed having an invisible chaperone inside my head."_

" _Your thought patterns did not allow me any such illusions,"_ said Yarrow, the faint hum of amusement still present in his tone. _"But for your sake I'm glad you did not block me out. Otherwise I would not have been able to vouch for the two of you."_

" _Anyway,"_ Wither said, _"I suppose I should get back to sleep now. If I can, that is. I'll talk to you later."_

For the next hour Wither lay next to Renna and felt her body press lightly against his own with each breath she took. He was unable to truly go back to sleep, but now that the sun had risen above the wall, the morning air had warmed considerably and the dew on the ground had begun to evaporate. Wither stretched out his wings as he sunned himself and pressed his cheek against the back of Renna's neck.

Not long after an hour had passed since Wither's conversation with his parents, Renna took a stunted, almost startled sounding breath and began to stretch herself out on her side. She stopped once she had reached the limits of her flexibility and cocked her head back to look at Wither in surprise. Then she released the tension in her muscles and flipped onto her back, forcing Wither to scoot back a bit. She stared up at him and gave him the brightest smile he had seen in a long time. "Well. Good morning. And how did you sleep?"

Wither grinned down at the dragoness beneath him and said, "Not quite so well as you. I had to answer the inevitable questions regarding our whereabouts. There was some skepticism surrounding our little rendezvous, but Yarrow stuck up for us, so all's well."

Renna tucked her chin closer to her chest and eyed Wither with hooded eyes. "That's nice, but after waking up next to this," she gently rested a paw on his chest, "I don't really care, come what may."

Wither snorted and nuzzled her forehead before rising to a sitting position. He stretched the stiffness out of his joints and muscles before looking up at the sun. "The battle started about an hour ago. We should probably get going."

"See you on the wall later?"

"Maybe, if things are looking down in the east. Or if I have the free time."

"Until next time then." Renna concentrated for a moment, her eyes forward and her body still. Then she stepped forward and disappeared as she walked.

Wither smirked at the effort it took her to shift and walked forward as well. He appeared next to his father who stood at the outer edge of the wall next to Wind Master Valorie and Fear Master Vivian. They appeared to be discussing the best course of action for dealing with a swarm of floating skeletons. They were about as large as Wither, despite the fact that they were missing their legs, and each of them wielded an equally sizable sword.

As they pressed forward through a torrent of bullets from the mole built autocannons stationed around the wall their emerald eye sockets became larger and more menacing. There were too many for the auto cannons to take out, so Wither lunged up to the top of the bulwark and raised a paw toward them. As he pulled on the energy that kept them alive, they began to fall to the ground, their bones disintegrating into a fine dust as they plummeted to the field below. However, from the moment he began to pull on the energy inside the first one, he quickly realized that the creatures were filled with Amophis, no doubt a gift from their leader.

After a couple dozen of the creatures had been obliterated by his power he began to feel the strain that absorbing too much Amophis at once placed on him. Still, there were easily fifty or more of the original force. The autocannons did their part as well, but the creatures in the back of the formation were well guarded by the ones in front and they were closing in on the wall. When they were a mere forty feet away, Wither forced himself to absorb more of the Amophis keeping the dead warriors alive. He reached his limit once a half dozen more of the skeletal swordsmen fell.

Wither turned to his father and the elders behind him. "I can't hold them off."

"You've done well," his father said. "We'll have to do this the old fashioned way, now."

Wither's eyes widened as he realized that they would be attacked on the wall. He turned to face the wall of advancing troops. They were now twenty feet and closing. There were still a good thirty or so remaining. There would be blood on the wall. Wither looked down over the edge of the wall. "I have to do something. People are going to get hurt if I don't stop them. But I'm not strong enough."

" **Nonsense. This is a paltry force barely deserving to even be noticed by one such as you. Promised one, if it is more power you seek, step over the edge. Accept me into your heart and together we shall send them careening into oblivion."**

"You mean go Hypoactive."

" **In a word. It is your birthright. It is your choice."**

"I can't. It is forbidden. Yarrow would punish me severely."

" **One cannot discipline another who is beyond their power."**

Wither looked up and appraised the floating warriors. They appeared to be moving in slow motion, their progress toward the wall barely noticeable. After a moment's consideration he slapped his tail against the wall and growled. "No, I'll not disobey my master. There must be another way."

" **As you say, hallowed one."**

Wither was immediately jerked back away from the edge of the wall. He was surprised to find that his father was holding him around the middle, pulling him away from the imminent battle. He was carried with great haste back to the far edge of the parapet away from the fighting. By the time the enemy forces made it past the autocannons there were only thirteen of them left. As soon as they breached the defenses and were over the wall, Master Vivian let out a piercing shriek that encompassed the lot of them. Master Valorie then proceeded to pull back her wings as far as they would go. The tips of her leathery appendages touched briefly before she pushed them forward in one powerful beat. The magic she put into the movement blew the paralyzed creatures back out over the field, where they were promptly mowed down by the autocannons.

It all happened in the span of a few seconds. It wasn't until after the last of the warriors was reduced to tumbling powder that Wither realized that his father was gently shaking him and asking him if he was okay. Wither shook his head and looked at his father. "Sorry. I'm okay."

Spyro clapped a paw down on Wither's shoulder and looked him over, eyes laden with worry. "You drifted off there." It wasn't a question.

"Yeah, but I'm fine now. Thank you, for keeping me safe."

"Most important job I'll ever have," said Spyro.

Wither looked back to the edge of the wall and saw that many of the defenders were staring at him. There were the elders stationed along this section of the wall, and Sora and Tera, two of his close friends. But many other dragons, moles, and cheetahs lined the battlements that surrounded Warfang. They all knew of his malady by now, so it was not uncommon for him to receive sympathetic glances now and then after an episode. It was uncomfortable having so many eyes upon him after his moment of weakness, yet it also made Wither feel beloved to know that so many cared for his health.

After saving the lives of everyone in Warfang on multiple occasions he was something of an icon to the citizens and temporary wartime residents of the city. There had even been incidents when moles patrolling the wall would talk with Wither and informed him that his name was well known in Mjölnir, the mole city under Warfang. They claimed that many of their scientists had hypothesized how he was able to control his element and were working on ways of understanding his abilities better. Most such talk sailed over his head. Partly due to the fact that every time he inquired into what they meant, they would become shifty and evasive with their answers. However, since these conversations he had noticed out of the corner of his eye after displays of his magic that moles would be watching him closely. And they always had questions for him.

But the only question on Wither's mind at that moment was why he felt so light headed. He placed a paw to his left temple and rubbed. There was a nauseating sensation pulsating in his stomach with each throb of his head. "Oh, I feel awful."

"You need to eat." His father walked a little ways off to the side where some meat was frozen straight to the top of the wall. Spyro took a deep breath and blew a gentle yet searing flame across the pile of preserved rations. Within minutes the food was thoroughly thawed and dragged before Wither. Spyro set the meal down and nudged it toward his son. "Here. You'll feel better."

Wither consumed the venison which had been frozen for months after the kill. He ate it quickly so as not to linger on the taste, which was so unappealing that even the dragons—who were never a finicky lot when it came to food—were tiring of it. Once he had downed the last of it, Wither looked back up at his father. "So, any other news on what I've missed today?"

Spyro shook his head, his violet scales twinkling with the movement. "No, you came at a critical moment. It's a good thing, too. If you hadn't there would have been trouble."

"Every day is trouble."

"More trouble than usual," said Spyro. He shuffled his paws and looked down at his son. "So, I take it you enjoyed the rest of your night?"

Wither looked toward the outer edge of the wall. "Can we not? At least wait until mom is with us so I can get it all in one go. Besides, I'd like to focus on my work today. I'm going to check in on the south. See how they're doing. Be back later. Call if you need me." Spyro watched wordlessly as Wither walked away and disappeared.

Wither reappeared beside a mole who jumped with a howl at his sudden emergence from thin air. Others in the immediate area jerked to attention, but immediately settled back down when they saw that it was only Wither. The mole removed her hand from her chest and smoothed down the red sash that marked her as the commanding officer of the moles in this quadrant. "Goodness gracious, Wither. You nearly made me mess myself."

"Sorry, Tenacity. You know I have no way of knowing who's close by the other end of my shifting points unless I stop and listen."

With a harrumph, Tenacity looked Wither up and down, examining him as she always did with her oculars, the unique eye wear the moles used to shield their sensitive eyes in the light of day. With a hum she said. "Even so, your jumping about through those invisible portals of yours is most disconcerting for those of us unsuspecting of your impending arrival."

Wither bowed his head and edged away from her as she muttered about never knowing when the next jump scare would be. He scanned the crowd stationed at the southern section of the wall, searching for his elders and friends. However, it was he who was discovered first. He felt something nudge him in the hindquarter and turned to see his friend Elleca looking him up and down with a sly grin.

Elleca was an admittedly gorgeous golden lightning dragon with horns like thunder bolts curving back along her skull. Her wings were pure as the most flawless pearl and her belly boasted a platinum sheen that made her stand out even next to Renna. But her most notable feature was the three silvery whips that extended several inches from the tip of her tail in lieu of the typical spade. When Elleca wished, these strands of organic silver compound could be turned into livewires capable of killing any who came in contact with them. All of these features were intriguing to dragons and moles alike, for she was uniquely put together, but Wither secretly favored the silver birthmark in the shape of a heart which glinted enticingly upon her left hindquarter. He pulled his eyes away from the imperfection in her scales to look her in the eyes. "Late to the party today, aren't we? So, I take it our fearless leader has had his beauty rest?"

Wither gave Elleca a friendly shove and blew in her face, making her recoil slightly, her eyes blinking. "There's no need to ladle needless titles or honorifics like that upon me, Elleca. Just because the Chronicler says I am to lead this age to peace does not make me leader of anything yet."

Elleca stuck out her tongue and gave him a wink. "Save it. No one likes false modesty, Wither. We all know what you can do. You have about as much shove as the elders these days."

Wither shook his head at Elleca's praise and moved on. "Where are the others?"

"Over there." Elleca pointed with a manicured claw to a tight cluster of dragons several yards away from where they stood.

Now that Wither was paying more attention he could hear Volteer's voice over the heads of the crowd regaling them with the story of how the Night Hunt—one of dragon kind's most revelous holidays—was founded. As Wither and Elleca pressed through the crowd they found the fabled story spinner and Lightning Master, Volteer, sitting in the center of the throng. He saw them enter the circle and continued his story as he gestured toward the front row where Vera and Wylee sat.

Wither sat on the smoothed granite next to his friend Vera, a venomous poison dragon and sister to Tera who watched the battle in the north. She possessed scales of a sickly lime color and a tail spade that ended in a wicked scorpion stinger. Though it was recently discovered that the two sisters technically shared the same soul they liked to refer to themselves as individuals. Vera gave Wither an acknowledging nod and turned back to Volteer.

Elleca sat on Wither's other side next to Wylee, the cheetah youngling who had moved to Warfang along with his father, Hunter, and the rest of his village for safety during the war. Wylee leaned forward with his knees drawn up against his chest and his arms wrapped around his legs. He was perhaps the most enthralled by Volteer's stories as he loved to soak in as much knowledge as he could. The dragon race had always fascinated him as a cub and now that he was lodging in the dragon capitol of Avalar he seemed resolute in his endeavor to learn as much about dragon culture as he possibly could. However, Wylee was not all brains; he was considered a prodigy in the art of combat as well. His village had seen fit to grant him the title of Upsilon, which meant that he was an exalted genius endowed with unparalleled prowess in martial arts.

When Wylee had come to Warfang he was pitted against Elleca for training purposes and their bout had resulted in a draw. The two had been inseparable ever since, much to Roxy's chagrin who was Elleca's oldest and best friend, but who was now forced to man the wall on the eastern side of the city. Even still, the earth dragon would meet up with Elleca nearly every night after sundown so as to stay in touch, as Elleca informed Wither.

Wither drew his attention to the Lightning Master who was just now wrapping up his tale. Wither didn't mind this too much as he already knew the story about the Night Hunt. The holiday had no set date, as it always took place on the first completely overcast night after six months had passed since the Great Awakening, the last dragon holiday that had taken place. On this night the older generations would set the younglings free out in the woods where they would make their first kills as the supreme predators of Avalar. In short, in was another coming of age ceremony, one of many rites of passage that every dragon had to complete before being recognized as an adult. And it was coming up, too. This was most likely the reason for the telling of the story.

Volteer looked around at all the faces of his audience and made sure to hold Wylee's gaze for an extra few seconds. "Are there any questions?"

Wylee's hand shot into the air immediately. With a hum of amusement Volteer said, "I thought so. Yes, Wylee?"

"If the Night Hunt takes place no sooner than six months after the Great Awakening, then isn't it fast approaching?"

"Why, yes. As a matter of fact it is. The six month waiting period has only just recently expired, so now it is only a matter of waiting until the right night. When the sky is overcast and the moons and the stars are completely blotted out, we are to send our younglings into the surrounding woods to make their first kills."

"But isn't that dangerous with the war going on?"

Volteer bowed his head in thought for a moment. Then, quietly, he said, "That has been a matter of some debate. It goes against tradition to put it off, but at the same time we must consider the safety of the younglings. We cannot allow anything to befall them in the total darkness of the Night Hunt just for the sake of tradition. We are an old race and can be set in our ways, but neither are we careless in the face of danger. It would be a tragedy to send them outside the safety of the walls of the city and have them attacked on what is supposed to be a joyous occasion. The elders have yet to reach a definite verdict on the issue at the present moment, but from the way the debate has been going, it looks as though we are leaning toward putting the event off. That is the decision Yarrow seems in favor of."

"A font of wisdom, he is," said Wither, gaining the gathering's attention. "It would be decadent to hold the celebration in wartimes and put the newest generation in such peril."

The corner of Volteer's mouth inched upward and he let out a single, humorless laugh. "Those were Yarrow's words precisely, Wither. It seems you share much in the way of thinking with our Grand High Elder."

Wither allowed a small smile. It was only natural that he would think like Yarrow. The ancient leader of Warfang had practically helped raise him. Wither regarded him as his oldest and closest friend.

"So," Wither looked up as Volteer's voice intruded on his thoughts. "As I understand it, Wither, you were late arriving at the wall today. Yarrow said only that you and Renna needed rest. Mesa and Glacianne have been looking forward to speaking with you, too, I believe. Could it be that this holds some sort of connection with the fact that Renna was also late to join the ranks today?"

Wither's face felt hot as Volteer gave him a grin and connected the dots for everyone in earshot. But just then Wither had other concerns. "Wait. Glacianne and Mesa wish to speak with me?"

Volteer's eyebrows shot up at the question and a low rumble shook his chest. "Oh, yes. Mesa looked a bit withdrawn from what I hear through the telepathic whispers, but Glacianne was very vocal when Renna took her post. Said a lot of interesting things, she did."

Wither's face was burning by now. It wasn't surprising that everyone was talking about it. After several months of fighting Malefor's forces everyone had taken to storytelling, gossip, and other games during moments of inactivity. Wither couldn't blame them, it was just another way to stay positive and keep everyone's minds off the war, but he hated being at the center of the juiciest rumor going around the city.

He glanced sideways and saw Elleca with the biggest grin on her face. "My, aren't we the player? And here I thought you were interested in little old me. What's going on, Wither? Care to elaborate for us?"

Wither made to take a step back, but Elleca shot toward him to prevent him from shifting away. "Oh no, you don't." However, she immediately found herself standing next to Vera. She turned around just in time to see Wither wave and step the other way, disappearing on the spot.

It was typical of Elleca to try and mess with him. She loved to agitate. Wither thought it might be a display of affection toward her friends, but he was still having none of her nonsense right now. After shifting her away from him he shifted to the eastern wall, much to his dismay. For no sooner had he appeared when he heard a voice say, "There you are."

It was shaping up to be an interesting day, indeed. Wither felt and heard the slow, rhythmic quake caused by tremendous footfalls coming toward him. He turned around and saw Glacianne marching toward him with a purpose, her eyes full of fire and her tail flicking sharply with each step. She had her massive husband, Mesa, in tow. As cheetahs and moles alike made a path for the two, Wither started to back up.

"Don't you dare," the ice dragoness snapped, though not as viciously as he had expected. "We've got words for you, Wither."

" _Yarrow, help me."_

" _You're on your own."_

Wither looked around and saw his mother and Renna sitting by the inner edge of the battlements some yards away. Cynder was smiling and shaking her head. Renna had hers buried in her paws. It looked as though she had had no more luck than he in escaping embarrassment in front of the whole city. On Wither's other side by the outer edge of the wall his friends Roxy and Psy were giving him approving nods and mock clapping motions while Terrador and Noh watched expressionless as the events unfolded. He looked back to his mother.

Glacianne called to him from where she advanced. "Your mother's not going to come to your rescue. We've already had ourselves a nice long chat this morning."

Wither had two choices. He could shift away or stand his ground. Much as he hated to, he felt the latter would grant him a fair bit more respect. In just a few short seconds he stood in the shadow of Renna's father, scratching little circles on the ground with a claw. He looked up and glanced back and forth between Glacianne and Mesa. Of the two, he was more frightened of Renna's mother. Nevertheless, he greeted them with a deferential bow before raising his head high. "Good morning Glacianne, Mesa. You uh . . . had words for me?"

Glacianne tapped a paw on the ground as she stared down at him with an unsettlingly appraising gaze. Mesa merely pulled his emerald tail spade before his face and looked at Wither through it. "He appears frightened, yet confident."

Glacianne leaned down until she was several inches away from Wither's face. He felt the icy breeze of her breath as she exhaled gently through her nostrils. A chill traveled down his spine. When she spoke it was in a murmur that only he could hear. "Wither, dear. We need to know, what are your intentions with our daughter?"

Wither suppressed the desire to groan out loud. Of course Glacianne would ask him that. It was customary among many ice dragons—especially those descended from a long line of ice dragons—to state their intentions directly to the parents or guardians of the one they were courting. Many of the dragons in Warfang now saw the practice as archaic and left couples to their own devices, but ice dragons tended to be far more proper. They were notorious sticklers for tradition and in extreme cases even looked down on those who did not observe the old customs.

Bearing this in mind, Wither was entirely at a loss for what to say. While his relationship with Renna had always been a bit more than mere friendship, they had never explicitly spoken with one another about their feelings toward one another. Having someone else ask him whether or not he was interested made him feel awkward. He could say that he was interested in courting Renna, but the thought of saying so aloud to her mother and father felt wrong. It felt unnatural, like he was being forced into something strict, stiff, and official. On the other paw, he could tell the truth and say that he didn't know what the future held for the both of them. This, however, seemed like a generally bad move. If he stated that he was unsure of his intentions then it was very likely that Glacianne would see him as a libertine. He was trapped.

Mesa cleared his throat and tapped the ground with a claw. "Your hesitation speaks volumes, my boy. I'm sorry to do this to you, but I have to respect my wife's customs." He then turned to Glacianne and said, "He appears conflicted between telling you one facet of the truth and another."

Wither winced at the revelation. It sounded so much worse when said aloud that way. Glacianne appeared to think so as well. "Do not lie to me, Wither. I take this matter very seriously. My daughter is the most precious thing in the world to me. I'll not have a young dragon going and making her wonderful, lovely promises and then breaking her heart later. Tell me, what are your intentions?"

Wither opened and closed his mouth several times in a vain effort to make any sort of noise at all. When he finally did speak, it was a pathetic squeak that he despised and instantly sought to rectify. "I like Renna. A lot. She's the first friend I've ever had outside the elders. She introduced me to the rest of my friends. She protected me before I learned about my powers. She has trained and fought by my side. I have much to thank her for. I . . . I know she shares my dreams, and that they keep her up at night. So we agreed to meet at night the next time we woke up to them. Just to talk. I just wanted to make her feel better, you know? To let her know that she doesn't have to deal with this alone, because I'm going through it, too. We were going to go back home, but we were so tired I guess we just fell asleep. That's all."

Glacianne looked to Mesa. The immense earth dragon gave a hum of suspicion and narrowed his eyes as he peered at Wither through the emerald looking glass at the end of his tail. Finally, after several seconds of unnerving scrutiny, he smiled and lowered his tail spade. "He speaks the truth."

Glacianne nodded once and gave Wither a pat on the back. "Well, just don't go making a habit out of it. We wouldn't want any nasty rumors going around now, would we?" Glacianne turned and made her way back toward where Renna and Cynder sat, leaving Mesa with Wither.

The earth dragon quickly leaned down and whispered hurriedly to Wither before Glacianne turned around and noticed. "It was true enough, eh? She doesn't need to know you're sweet on our little dragoness just yet now, does she? I remember what it's like to be young. Glacianne would like to pretend we were as proper as she wants Renna to be. Just remember to be good, or I'll find you and step on you."

Wither watched Mesa turn and follow his wife. Rather than saying hello to Renna and his mother and have to endure the prolonged company of Glacianne and Mesa, Wither turned the other way and walked toward his friends and their masters. Roxy jogged toward him and met him halfway. "Wither, congratulations. We never would have thought you'd pull a move like that until at least a few more years. Spending the night alone with Renna? So, how'd it go?"

Roxy had wrapped a wing around Wither as he walked toward Psy and the elders. Wither sat down next to Roxy and looked at Psy. "Is everyone talking about it?"

"Everyone," said Psy with his usual grin.

Terrador's impressive frame rumbled as he cleared his throat. "Pay them no mind, Wither. The citizens are merely bored and have found something with which to amuse themselves. It won't be long before they grow bored with you and move on to talking about something else. Such is the nature of petty gossip."

"But in the meantime," said Noh, "it's pretty exciting news to everyone. Especially to dragons. The son of Spyro and Cynder and the only current light dragon? Why that's a pairing that's sure to produce promising offspring."

Wither blanched at the comment and let out a gasp. "Master Noh! What are you implying?"

Terrador and Noh roared with laughter and slapped each other on the back while Wither's shock turned to fuming embarrassment. He got up and stalked away from the group, ignoring their protests and pleas for his return. Roxy got up and ran in front of him in an attempt to block his path. "Wither, wait. We were only joking." Wither turned transparent and phased through Roxy without so much as breaking his stride. He became opaque again and walked to the other side of the wall where his mother sat talking with Glacianne.

Both mothers turned their attention to Wither and watched as he flopped down and stared between them at Renna. It amazed Wither how much passed between them just through that gaze alone. She appeared to be just as fed up with the gossip as he was. After several seconds of silence Cynder gave Wither a smile of exaggerated innocence. "So, did you learn your lesson?"

"Everyone's being mean to me."

"No. They're just picking on you." Wither remained silent. "Are you going to do it again?"

Wither made an effort not to look at Glacianne and raised his eyebrows as he stared at the stone between his paws. "I didn't mean to do it the first time."

Cynder nodded and dropped the subject. "How's the rest of the wall doing?"

Wither was busy etching a picture of white scratch marks in the granite of him throwing Noh into the Void. After a moment he said, "The north was in trouble for a bit, but I helped them out. The failed assault appeared to demoralize the northern forces from trying anything for a while. The southern enemy forces are so pathetic today Volteer's telling stories to everyone to keep them occupied. And I can see things are rather lax in this sector."

"Says who?" said Cynder.

"Says me. Is anyone even watching the field? I took a quick look around and it appears that the enemy is advancing unobserved."

Mesa rose from where he lay behind Glacianne and turned to scan the outer edge of the wall. "Oi! Master Terrador, anything to report?"

Terrador stopped talking to Roxy long enough to look over the wall. "The giant turtle is still there. I suppose it might be an inch or two closer to the trench than it has been for the past four months, but the grublins still haven't managed to fill in the trench yet."

Mesa lay back down without a word. Cynder looked back at Wither and gave him a nudge. "See? We have things under control. It's been a pretty uneventful day for us so far. Though the day is still young. Not that I'm hoping for too much excitement."

Glacianne placed a paw on Wither's and leaned closer. "Haven't had any incidents yet today have we, dear?"

"Only one."

Cynder frowned and scooted closer to Wither, as did Renna. His mother spoke quietly so as not to attract the attention of anyone close by. "What happened?"

Wither recounted the tale of the attack on the northern wall to them and told of how his father had to pull him away from the battle. Cynder said nothing, but reached forward and pat him on the back several times before rubbing it with a worried expression. "I just wish I knew what was causing it. If we knew the source of the problem, then there might be some way of fixing it."

"What about you?" said Wither as he looked across to Renna. "Anything today?"

She shook her head. "No, but I knew when it happened to you."

That was typical. Ever since their shared condition began, it was clear that it connected them somehow, though not even Yarrow was able to determine the nature of that connection. It seemed as though the problem had no source and no solution. It would just end when it did or persist forever.

They sat and talked for a while about cheerier topics. Wither felt better to get his mind off of his condition and the rumors that had been flying around that morning. However, every now and then the talk would turn back to the never ending battle that awaited them each day and the challenges it presented them with. After the uncomfortable silence that followed one such segment of their conversation Wither was reminded of something.

"Hey, mom. Has Onyx said anything about Alabaster yet? It's been a while since I've heard about him."

Several months ago it was suspected that Alabaster, one of the chief moles in their city, Mjölnir, was infected by a strain of Amophis which Xath, who now went by Pestilence, controlled. Alabaster's brother, Onyx, who was himself a chief among the moles, reported that his brother had displayed unusual behavior prior to and ever since a devastating accident involving one of their most prized projects. Ever since that day, Alabaster had been holed up in his private office, which no one else had access to.

Cynder shook her head silently for a moment before answering his question. "He's still in his office where no one can reach him. He won't even come out to see his own brother. Onyx says that Alabaster claims to be working on an important project, but he says that it's highly unusual for him to remain in his office for longer than a month at a time. He's the head of research and development in some sort of lab where they build things and do experiments from what Onyx told me, so he's supposed to come out and give instructions and input every now and then. Only thing is, he's been giving all of his instructions from inside his office through some sort of device called a video monitor? Oh, I don't know all that mole stuff they always talk about. Anyway, he apparently has access to a personal waste management system and food and water delivery through a kind of tube that goes through the walls, so he doesn't technically need to leave that room. Ugh, I can't imagine spending that long in one little room. It would drive me crazy."

Glacianne looked around to make sure there weren't any moles within earshot before leaning forward and saying, "Those moles have always loved cramped spaces. Why do you think they live underground?"

Wither tuned out the rest of the conversation as it began to revolve around how odd the ways of the moles were. He would have told Glacianne that it was impolite to speak about their longtime allies and friends in such a manner, but he felt that she would take offense to being scolded by a youngling. Plus, as an ice dragon, she was even more likely to not be pleased about someone else telling her what was and wasn't proper.

Instead of contributing to petty gossip he rose and quietly excused himself before shifting back to the northern wall. When he arrived everyone was surrounding the outer edge of the wall. That did not bode well. Wither looked around for his father and quickly found him standing next to the elders and his friends. He padded up to the bulwark and squeezed between Psy and Roxy. "What's up guys?"

Psy pointed to the field and said, "Look."

Wither followed Psy's claw and found that the dead soldiers from Dante's Freezer were collecting torn up pieces of their fallen comrades and placing them in a rather sizable pile between the two moats. The people along the northern wall had seen this behavior before. The undead warriors always gathered the remains of their tattered and scattered to build a composite goliath. It was unsettling for multiple reasons.

"This isn't going to be a fun day, is it?" said Psy. "Hey, at least they're making it out there where we can interrupt them and make things all difficult like for them. They usually make them on the other side of the portal."

The goliaths that the northern army built from time to time were a serious threat. Since they were comprised of the pieces of thousands of fallen soldiers, they were massive, enough to scale the walls of Warfang, which they invariably did. They were the only things besides the golems that occasionally came from the east and Malefor's wretched troops from the Void to manage to breach all of the city's outer defenses. They were also usually built with an excessive amount of appendages, which made them capable of taking on multiple foes at once. It didn't help matters any that they were also unable to feel any pain. Seemingly devastating wounds to the main body primarily went unnoticed unless the damage was extensive enough to cripple the entire being. Decapitation never worked, as there were always various heads woven by horrific magic into the flesh all around its body. The only sure way to neutralize the entity as a threat was to utterly dismember the thing, which always proved difficult due to both the size and the volume of the limbs protruding from the beast at nearly every angle. And even then it was essential to burn the remains so that it wouldn't piece itself back together and begin its assault anew as the first one had when they made the mistake of leaving the remains where they lay.

Not even Wither's dark crystal network was enough to bring the things down, though it was clear that once a goliath was in proximity to the crystals' range they were dramatically weakened. Their movements became staggered and dull, and their blows were not so ruthless once they were atop the wall. It had taken Wither's father, Spyro, whom all regarded as the greatest warrior of dragon kind, to fell the first one.

Wither would always remember the event. The goliath was fifty feet tall and had eight arms to start out. It had swatted the moles and cheetahs aside like mice. Even the dragons along the wall were wary of the beast. It never faltered for a moment on its quest. The entire time it was on its feet, from the moment it left the portal from whence it came out in the fields outside the city, it had clearly made a break straight for Wither. Spyro had sliced off both of the goliath's legs and had systematically done the same to the arms. When it had but one left, it still clawed its way onward toward Wither, dragging its mutilated frame toward him. Spyro finally severed the last limb when it was just several feet from Wither, its massive seven-fingered hand still groping in his direction. Wither shivered and shook off the memory.

Wither looked back and forth between Roxy and Psy. They all shared the same concerned expressions. "We have to do something about this before it goes too far," said Wither.

Roxy thumped his tail spade against the wall and motioned to the cluster of undead soldiers below. "What do you expect us to do about it? They're too far away to deal with from up here and I for one would rather not go down there with all of them."

Psy raised a paw and lowered it again when they looked at him. "I vote that we just leave it to the elders. They appear to be coming up with a plan. Like I said earlier, those soldiers are building the goliath on this side of the portal, which means our side can interrupt the process. This should be easy for them."

To his credit, immediately after Psy had spoken Terrador, Noh, and Spyro, along with a contingent of a dozen other dragons launched themselves off the wall and swooped below toward the warriors. Devastation rippled through the battlefield in their wake. They unleashed a salvo of various elemental blasts as they descended on the unprepared soldiers. Bodies flew through the air and pieces meant to form the goliath were strewn across the battlefield.

A chorus of cheers erupted around the wall as the rest of the forces watched the onslaught. It was an effective counterstrike that had set the enemy back considerably. What little they had gathered for their vile project was now mostly useless. They would essentially have to start all over if they wanted to construct another goliath.

"Well, that was easy," said Roxy with a grin as he leaned against the bulwark and faced his friends.

"Yeah, too easy, really," said Psy.

Just then Wither noticed a shimmering in the air at the other end of the battlefield. It could have been mistaken as the curtain of heat one often notices in the distance, but the citizens of Warfang were all too familiar with that sight. It meant that the portal the enemy army used to transport themselves to Warfang was opening. Wither pointed to the disturbance in the air with a claw. "Look."

Roxy tilted his head to the side in askance. "Reinforcements?"

Wither watched as Psy narrowed his eyes at the portal and inspected the battlefield. "No, it's too soon for that. Plus, they waited until we sent forces out into the field. This seems a little calculated." Then his eyes widened and he and Wither both lurched forward, pressing their paws atop the bulwark and shouting with all their strength.

"It's a trap!"

Over a hundred feet away several of the dragon team looked toward the wall. It was at that moment that a lone figure shot out of the rift at the edge of the field at surprising speed. It was small, whatever it was, and flew directly toward the dragons in the group that were closest to it. One of them noticed the danger and gave a shout just before it reached them. The assailant came in close and breezed on past. Seemingly nothing had transpired between the two, but the one who had given the warning suddenly and inexplicably fell silent in mid yell. It all happened in a second. Just as the being flew past, the dragon fell through the air and crashed into the battlefield below.

All at once, several roars echoed across the wall. More dragons took wing and set themselves after the mysterious attacker. Some of the original party to take the field also gave pursuit. Wither watched as several of them landed below, fighting off the enemy forces while others tended to the fallen dragon. Though it was too far away to tell what was said, an exchange was made and they all took off again, leaving the dragon where they lay. Wither's stomach sank.

He looked up and watched as the dragon, for that's clearly what it was now, circled back and rushed headlong into the throng of its pursuers. The tangle of dragons in the air flowed around the attacker, trying to wreak their vengeance upon them, but when the dragon broke free on the other side of the group, two more dragons fell to the earth. This time the entire party descended to defend their fallen comrades, allowing the reinforcements from the wall to chase after the dragon. Once again, after a quick exchange they all took off again. This time, instead of rushing the attacker, they flew toward the dragons that came from the wall. They were all yelling to them and motioning back toward the wall.

Before the message could be fully taken in, the dragon closed in on another of Warfang's own. This time they were close enough for Wither to take a good look at them. The dragon was covered in black armor. That meant it was one of the four younglings Malefor had made his generals. Wither guessed it was Zar. As he moved in toward his target, he reached out a paw and touched the dragon on the arm. The victim instantly went limp in midair and fell to the earth as the others had before.

Roxy looked over the wall at the downed dragon, dumbstruck by the suddenness of his death. "He's dead," he said, unable to look away from the motionless corpse.

"He's killing them!" screamed Psy with a roar of anguish.

Wither jumped off the wall and soared through the air toward the attacker. Though his wings were too small to be of any use, Wither found that he could use his power to manipulate gravity around him. As a result he was much faster than any other dragon when he wished it. He slammed his entire body into the attacker and they both went tumbling down onto the battlefield. As Wither fell, he could hear more roars of fury, though from which direction they came, he knew not. The voices of Warfang seemed to come from everywhere as he spun through the air, the earth and the sky somersaulting over one another.

All the while he held on tight to the attacker. A glint of blue confirmed his earlier suspicions. It was Zar, the young ice dragon that had betrayed Warfang, his home. Just before the two of them hit the ground, Wither managed to level out and push off of Zar, slamming him into the ground, while Wither floated down safely beside him.

Zar barely had time to scramble to his feet before Wither was upon him. He whipped around and caught Zar in the jaw with his tail spade. Just as Zar's head was coming back around to face his foe, he was immediately punched in the throat. Under the helmet, Wither saw Zar's eyes go wide as he tried and failed to take a breath. That was his chance. Wither rushed forward and grabbed Zar's head with both of his paws. He then reared up on his hind legs and bore down on Zar with all of his strength.

Zar must have been taken aback by the ruthlessness of the assault, because he let out a yell that was quickly muffled when his face met the ground. Wither pulled up on his head, lifting him as high as Zar's jarred body would allow, before pushing back down and dashing his face against the earth again. After Wither bashed Zar's face into the ground a third time, Zar reached up and punched Wither in the stomach. Winded, Wither fell back on his haunches and struggled to regain his breath. However, Zar was in no shape to take advantage of the opening. Blood ran down his forehead where it had been cut open by the lip of his own helmet. It covered his eyes and mingled with the thick crimson spittle which Zar spat out in large globules.

When he had spat out enough of the stuff, Zar looked up and watched as the elders including Spyro circled above. The rest of the dragons had retreated to the wall as per their orders. He then looked down at Wither and inclined his head. "You're a brave one aren't you? After I killed them so easily." He gestured to the pair of dragons that had fallen together several yards away.

Wither could feel himself trembling, but he was not, in fact, afraid. "Your master won't allow you to kill me. You couldn't even if you had the permission. The way you killed them. It wasn't natural. It's the Amophis abilities he gave you, isn't it? Amophis alone can't harm me. But I have no such restrictions." Wither pointed to Zar. "I can do whatever I like with you."

Zar shook his head and said, "That is where you are wrong. Just you wait. You'll get yours. Malefor has plans for you. And until you give in to those plans more will die as a result."

Zar placed a paw against his chest plate and pulled outward. A crackle split the air between them and Zar disappeared through a rift quick as he had come. Wither looked around and saw that the undead warriors had surrounded him during their conversation. Now they came at him. Wither lifted off the ground and soared back to the wall, unwilling to face that many of the undead army.

Wither alighted on the wall next to his friends. Roxy gave him a nod of approval and a firm pat on the back. Psy walked up to him. His eyes were red and there were tear streaks down his face. His face was contorted into a savage snarl that forced him to nearly spit his words out at Wither. "Did you make him choke on his teeth?"

"Nearly."

"Good enough for now, I suppose. It'll have to be."

Wither heard the beat of wings and turned to watch his father and the other elders land on the wall. Spyro marched toward Wither and grabbed him by the arm, jerking him up closer to his level. "What were you thinking?"

Wither looked back into his father's eyes and said, "That you don't take life in Warfang and walk away unscathed."

"You could have been killed!"

"They won't kill me. They're not allowed to."

Spyro jerked upward again, twisting Wither's arm. "What if they had taken you away?"

Wither turned transparent and he pulled his arm through his father's grasp. He sat back on his haunches and looked up at him. "Someone had to stand up to him. And I'm the only one he couldn't kill. I did the right thing, and in the end, no matter your own personal sentiments, that's all that matters."

Spyro looked into his eyes for several long silent seconds. Then his gaze softened and he closed his eyes. "As you say."

He turned away and walked back toward the edge of the wall and watched as Terrador and Noh organized several dragons to go and retrieve the dead. Wither stood beside him and watched as the undead were fended off once again so that the bodies could be safely returned. They were the first of the allied forces of Warfang to die in the war. After four months of solid defensive strategy, Warfang had felt the bitter sting of first blood.

Without looking away, Wither said to his father, "Zar will pay for what he's done. I promise."

"That, he will," said Spyro, nodding his head in agreement. "That, he will."

The keening of friends and family of the fallen could be heard around the wall.


	2. Chapter 2-Departure

Chapter 2-Departure

The suffering of the citizens of Warfang only intensified as the day went on. News spread quickly around the wall that four dragons had met their end in a surprise attack while they were defending the city outside the walls. The mental network that Yarrow used his life magic to maintain for the city was in chaos for the next hour as dragons fought to be heard over one another, clamoring to find out whether it was their loved ones who had fallen. It got so bad that Yarrow had to silence everyone, altering the connection for a moment so that only he could be heard. He held a brief council with the elders involved in the assault and interviewed Wither to ascertain the identity of the attacker. Only then were the names of the fallen revealed.

Silence filled the city while everyone listened to Noh and Terrador's report, though Wither suspected that several miles away on the other sections of the wall, there were wails of horror and woe. Those who now lay in the city center awaiting their ceremony had been young for dragons. Three of them were not much older than a hundred and the other was of the previous generation, born a hundred years prior to them. Yarrow instructed several dragons around the wall to break from their duties to ready them for their funeral. The ancient then gave a rapturous and compelling speech that promised justice on the one who had laid low the beloved and honorable defenders of Warfang.

That evening, as the portals opened up and the enemy forces retreated back to whence they came for the night, the air thrummed with powerful waves of energy that broadcast a message across all of Warfang. The Dark Master, Malefor, spoke. "Greetings, citizens of Warfang. I once again extend my offer to end my campaign against your city in exchange for Wither. If you refuse, more death shall follow in the wake of your rebellion."

Malefor then focused on Wither, though he still made sure that all in the city could hear his words. "Your resistance is most frustrating, Wither. I grow impatient with these games. Do you really think we could not crush this city if we truly desired it? Come down from that wall and end the suffering of your people. It is the only way to stop the killing. And I promise you, there will be more killing. For every day you do not accept my offer from now on, more shall die as they did today. Their blood is on your paws. By defying me, you killed them as surely as though you had struck the fatal blows yourself. I leave you now to ponder. Come morning, if you stand alone in the fields outside the city walls, you shall be escorted safely to my quarters and the fighting shall cease forevermore."

Wither stood trembling on the wall as he looked out over the field with unseeing eyes. He felt a paw on his shoulder and looked up to see his father staring down at him. The last time Wither had seen his father so upset was the day Malefor had temporarily taken control of his body and used Amophis to gain control of his mother's mind, forcing her to attack Spyro. The utter horror of that moment would forever be ingrained in Wither's memory. When Malefor was inside him he could feel everything the Dark Master felt, he thought as Malefor did, he even understood him, twisted though he was. Deep down, in Wither's most secret places in his mind, he still wasn't entirely sure whether the dark pleasure he felt at being a master puppeteer, pulling at his mother's invisible strings, was due to the Dark Master's meddling taint, or his own primal glee at the exhilaration of exerting power over others. It was too tough to pick his and Malefor's feelings apart at that time.

The Dark Master corrupted everything he touched. He was a truly wicked, cruel being with no regard for the rights and sanctity of life. Where there was truth, he would twist and stir with doubt. He was an ever constant reminder that even as the light shines as bright as can be, the resulting shadows deepen and lurk, waiting for the slightest opportunity to resurge anew. There could be no peace so long as his presence still poisoned the realm.

Before Spyro could say anything, Wither shifted to the rooftop of their home, the tallest tower near the heart of Warfang. Here he overlooked the vast, sprawling city with its glorious high rises, all agleam in the golden light of the setting sun, and occasional smatterings of foliage that marked the parks and gardens he and his friends so treasured. But on this particular evening, Wither had eyes only for the main plaza, the heart of Warfang, where all major events took place. From every direction, dragons flocked to the center of the city where the ceremony for the fallen would take place.

After several minutes, the rhythmic beat of wings announced his mother and father's arrival. They touched down behind him and stepped to the edge of the roof on either side of him. "Wither, it's not true," Cynder said.

Wither held up a paw, still staring at the plaza in the distance. He could hear the wailing now, echoing through the glass and granite and up into the air where they sat. "How is this not my fault?"

Cynder placed a paw on his cheek and gently turned his head to face her. "Whatever Malefor has put into your head, no matter how convincing it may be, hear me and know that it is a lie. You know my past with that monster, Wither. I know how persuasive he can be. He knows how to mix just enough of the truth in with falsehoods to make you think he speaks the truth, but his is a butchered one. It is not your fault that they died. It is Zar's. And Malefor's, too. No doubt he gave the order for this to be done. It is his way of stepping up the stakes to get what he wants."

"I know that," said Wither. He placed a paw on Cynder's and lowered it before turning back to face the plaza. "But Malefor wants me for some reason. He wants to be the one to teach me how to use my powers. And to that end, he has slain in the name of persuasion. To some extent, I must be held accountable. It's not fair, but that's the situation he's placed me in."

Now Spyro stepped forward. "Giving yourself up to him wouldn't change a thing. Death and destruction have always been his endgame."

"But if I were to go to him, I could force him to stop this campaign by refusing to cooperate with him unless he meets my demands."

Spyro laughed, something Wither wasn't expecting. "Do you really think you have any bargaining power with Malefor? Don't deceive yourself, Wither. He has power over you now to get you in his grasp, and once you're there he'll still have that same power over you. If you feel you have to comply with his wishes to keep him from attacking Warfang while you're here, what makes you think placing yourself under his command will change that? He'd still use Warfang as an instrument to make you behave. You'd be as a slave to him like your mother before you."

Wither looked up in time to see his father's gaze flicker toward his mother. When he swiveled his eyes in her direction, she had her head tilted in assuring agreement. She then looked out over the city with Wither. "You should go to the funeral."

"I can't," said Wither. "Malefor and Zar are more the reason for their deaths, as you say, but in their sorrow, I'm not so certain the grieving will share your sentiments. I can't take the accusing gazes, nor their hateful comments."

"You don't think they'll blame you?" said Spyro. "Wither, you're considered something of a hero now after all you've done protecting the city."

Wither turned toward his father and pointed toward the plaza. "And what of the fact that I'm the whole reason this war got started in the first place? Do you think they have forgotten that? Or do you think they'll place blame wherever they can? Is that not what people always do when they are hurt? I'm not going. I can see everything from here."

And so Wither watched the ceremony from the rooftop of his tower. Having been unable to convince him to come, his mother and father had left without him. They were expected to make an appearance for so formal an affair.

Later that night Spyro and Cynder came home and stepped quietly into their bedroom, doing their best to keep their claws from clicking loudly against the golden marble floor. However, their efforts were unnecessary. Wither was still awake. They found him hovering over the massive pile of cushions they used as their bed. He hung suspended in midair without the use of his wings, something only he could do. He had his tail pulled up between his rear legs and cupped the tail spade at the end in his forepaws. His eyes were closed as they entered and he did not open them right away, but he felt them come in.

Still, he ignored them while he continued to probe the end of his tail with his mind. In times of terrific rage, Wither was able to summon what he believed to be his equivalent of a fury attack. During this time, he became a font of infinitely flowing nothingness. It was as though his body and mind became a gateway through which all matter and energy were swept from the world and into the yawning eternity of the Void. In that state Wither was absence distilled. He was all powerful. Not even Malefor could stand against him forever in that state. For they were evenly matched as they were, and evenly matched they had been during the course of the war. Whenever Malefor used the powers of the Void to throw something at Warfang that not even his mother and father could handle, that's when Wither stepped in and took care of the situation.

The first such incident was the appearance of the unsung, wispy, insubstantial smoke creatures that represented the souls of those who never were. While alone one was too weak to cause any problems, together they would bring Warfang to its knees. Trillions of them had descended upon Warfang in a single day, nearly overwhelming the defenders, but Wither had managed to hold them off. The next time Malefor had attacked with far worse beings now known by all as the forgotten. Malefor had called these the souls of the dead, no longer remembered by any among the living nor the ancestors. Oily tar-like shape shifters they had been, though when they were not flowing over, under, and around things, they generally took the form of dragons. They were not nearly as numerous as the unsung, but their ferocity and tenacity made them far more dangerous.

Again, Wither had had to banish them back to the Void. Any other attempt to harm their liquid bodies was utterly useless, for they would merely lose their form and regain it after they were assaulted. It would have been easier to accomplish if Wither could have used his fury, but Yarrow strictly forbade it. So now Wither searched the end of his tail for any trace of the crystal that came out of it during his Hypoactive state, but he found nothing, and not the kind he was hoping for.

Wither opened his eyes and saw that his parents were sitting just inside the doorway, watching him with keen interest. He drifted down and forward to touch down in front of them. "I've been trying to figure out how it comes apart in all those little pieces, but there aren't any seams in my tail spade. Or if there are they fit together too well to detect."

"Magic is not so easily explained through physical examination," said Cynder.

Wither blew a minute puff of air through his nostrils. "Tell that to Yarrow. And the moles. Hmm, now there's an idea. Maybe they could figure it out."

Spyro leaned down and ruffled the top of Wither's head. "Stop trying to cheat Yarrow's ruling. You'll only cause trouble for yourself. Besides, it might be unwise to allow the moles to examine you. It's hard telling what they might find out next."

Wither rolled his eyes and pushed his father's paw away. "So, how was it?"

"Awful," said Cynder as she slid into the cushions behind Wither. "What do you expect, though? It was a funeral."

"Did they ask about me?" said Wither. He didn't know whether anyone would care if he was there or not. He hoped they were too focused on the dead to care about anyone among the living just now.

Spyro eased down into the cushions next to Cynder and let out a long sigh. "The mourning, no. Not at first. But there were several testimonials from the friends and family of the fallen. Those who were present in the north when it happened brought you up. They mentioned how you stormed the battlefield alone, how you struck down the one responsible for the killings and fought ferociously to avenge them. The only bitterness that crept into their voices as they spoke of you was when they mentioned that Zar managed to escape your final judgement. Though they promise vengeance by the end of this war."

Wither nodded and nestled into the cushions between his parents. "Vengeance. First, we need the power to defeat our enemies. But that's something we don't have. Or it is, but Yarrow won't let me use it. I know I have the power to bring down the armies and bring justice to Arragor and his friends. And if the three of us were to gang up on Malefor, he wouldn't stand a chance. I could use my power to basically hold him down while you two go to work on him. Maybe I would have to face Yarrow's judgement afterward, but it would be worth the lives it would save in the long run. Ultimately, even if Yarrow's worst fears were to be realized, one life does not equal more than even one other. That's something Yarrow himself has told me more times than I can remember.

"The hard part is getting the so called generals to come out. They don't do that very often. But when next they do, orders or not, I will set myself against them with all that I am. I have made my decision. The next time I come across them, they will not escape me."

"You know the penalty for such defiance, Wither," said Spyro warningly.

Wither merely shrugged and raised his muzzle. "But I am my own dragon. And when it's all said and done, Yarrow's words, mom's words, and even your words, dad, are only words. I will not let words, no matter who they come from, stop me from doing what I believe to be the right thing."

Wither laid his head down then. He hoped that his resolve was enough to impress his parents, and to his satisfaction they had nothing more to say to his declaration. The silence in the room stretched on until Wither finally found himself drifting off to sleep.

Then, "Wither, listen closely."

Wither let out a long, forced sigh and lifted his head, "My mind's made up. I meant what I—said."

Wither drew up short as he realized that he was no longer in his parents' room. The room he was in now was roughly the same size, but it now had more the look of a cave than a grand master bedroom fit for a king. Dust hung in the air and books flew about overhead, endlessly sorting themselves into shelves that lined the room. A large hourglass dominated the center of the room. Most of the shimmering blue substance remained collected at the top of the device. There remained only the barest grains of sand in the bottom, and even as Wither glanced at the mysterious piece, a couple particles drifted upward through the bottleneck in the middle.

Wither had been here several times before. It was the inner sanctum of the Chronicler, the legendary being who kept track of all the goings on in the world. The Chronicler could not leave the Celestial Caves that riddled the White Isle, which resided somewhere far to the north of the Avalar mainland. Therefore, the only means of communication the Chronicler had with the outside world was through the dreams of the living. However, that consumed some of the Chronicler's unique magic, of which Ignitus, the new Chronicler, had very little.

Wither took the room in in a second and turned to see the Chronicler himself staring down at Wither. "There's much I still must do, Wither, and so little power remains. I have no time for conversation. Even now my power wanes. I must be done with you post haste. Come to the White Isle in the north. I must speak with you in person. I have learned of a way to defeat Malefor. I know it's asking a lot, but you must do it. It is the only way to put an end to this war. The prophecies are clear. Come to the Celestial Caves. I will tell you more when you arrive. Now go."

Wither felt a sudden rush as his consciousness was flung rather forcibly from the room. But rather than winding up back in his own body, the rushing came to an end with him plunged in utter darkness. He looked around in confusion at first then understanding dawned on him. "Oh, you want to speak with me again?"

" **Yes, hallowed one. It is my turn with you this evening."**

The Void surrounded Wither, wrapping him in its familiar, protective embrace. He felt warm and at peace. His mind felt rather fuzzy, but at the moment he was too relaxed to care. "The Chronicler wants me to leave Warfang and go to the White Isle to see him. He said he knows a way to defeat Malefor and stop this war that's been ravaging Warfang."

" **It's a good idea. You should do it, I think, but the choice is yours. I am merely your servant. Still, I am old. I have wisdom. If you would hear my advice, I would say that going out into the world will grant you many experiences that Warfang cannot offer you. You can only grow from such experiences."**

Wither nodded in agreement at the sound advice. It sounded an awful lot like something Yarrow would say. "Okay, I'll do it. I mean, I may have a hard time convincing my parents and the rest of the elders, but once they understand the message comes from the Chronicler himself, they ought to let me go. Still, I don't want to go alone."

" **No, you shouldn't. The world is a lonely place. You must bring company. You have friends. Bring them. They are present with you in the prophecies spoken of by the Chronicler. Convincing them to come will be no challenge. It is their destiny, their birthright to accompany you on this quest."**

Wither could only think to continue to nod along in agreement. The voice of the Void always told him what he wanted to hear. And it always made such perfect sense. It made a good friend. "Then it's settled. I'll go to the White Isle. And I'll bring my friends with me."

" **Good. I am happy for you, promised one. You are bound to have so many experiences in your travels. They will be good for you. But you must be well rested and focused for your journey. I shall refrain from contacting you unless you desire me from now on. I shall recede from your most trusted friend as well, so as not to bother her anymore."**

Wither continued his nodding, finding it difficult to stop. His head felt weightless. "She'll like that. You scare her."

" **My apologies. It is still difficult to contact you unless you call me. And as you have entrusted her to be a Void Warden, she presents another opportunity to communicate with you. But soon I shall be able to speak freely with you. Three of the seals that shield your mind from me have been broken, only the last remains. And once you step over the edge again, it too shall be broken. Then, you shall finally remember me past our conversations."**

Wither said nothing, allowing the ceaseless motion of his head to do the talking for him. He thought about what to say for a great long while, but couldn't think straight. Finally, after an indeterminate amount of deliberation he settled for, "Yeah. That'd be nice."

The voice made an amused sound before saying, **"All right. You are tired. I shall let you sleep now. Good night, hollow one."**

By this point, Wither was already asleep.

XXX

The next morning Wither's eyes flickered open. He was surprised to find how well rested he felt. The weariness that clung to his limbs and clouded his mind each morning was greatly lessened after a good night's sleep. Then Wither bolted upright and looked around the room. His mother sat at the table off to the left quietly reading a book. She glanced up at the sound of his frantic movement and gave him a startled expression. "Well, it's about time you got up. It's nearly high sun, you know. Your father and I were amazed when we woke up this morning and you were still asleep. We talked it over with Yarrow and he told us to let you milk it as much as possible. So I've just been over here reading a book, catching up on some studies. How do you feel?"

Wither stood and gazed at the floor for a moment while he gathered himself. Then he looked back up at his mother and said, "I need to speak with Yarrow."

Not ten minutes later Wither stood in the dim dome of the overgrown pavilion in the center of Yarrow's garden with his mother and father by his side. Yarrow scratched ponderously at his chin, his eyes narrowed in thought. "And he couldn't tell you anything more?"

Wither shook his head. "His magic is dwindling. He's been using it to glimpse the future for critical information regarding the war and to communicate some of it to me. The longer he keeps me in those dreams of his, the more power he uses. He couldn't afford to have me present for longer than a few seconds."

Yarrow sat in silence for several seconds more until he gave his response. "It's too dangerous."

"It's too dangerous not to," said Wither. "Destiny is calling me, Yarrow. There is a prophecy about me in motion. You can't stand in the way of that."

"You are a youngling—"

"A youngling who has proven himself to out class the three most respected dragons in terms of power. A youngling who has shown his worth in intellect, who has hung on your every word from birth and learned from the wisest of all dragon kind has to offer. A youngling who has put his heart into defending this city in times of need when no other could rise to the occasion. Yarrow, I need to do this, for me and for Warfang, for all of Avalar. You said to me once that everyone has a right to learn who they are and that my day was fast approaching. Well, now is that time. I can finally do something to bring the fight to the enemy, to push back. I love you, Yarrow. But I will not let you deny me this. I'm leaving tonight after the sun sets and the enemy has retreated for the day, with or without your blessing."

Yarrow looked up at Spyro and Cynder. "We'll put it to a vote. Spyro?"

Wither did not look back to where his father stood. But he heard him quite clearly. "He is no younger than I was when I had to save the world."

Yarrow turned to Wither's mother then. "Cynder, what say you about this?"

A faint shuffling was heard. "He appears to have made up his mind. I will not even try to stop him. It would be a futile effort."

Yarrow looked down at Wither and closed his eyes. "Very well. Even I can see that you are right. It is not my place to tell you that you cannot do this. Though I wish I could. Still, the road may well be treacherous. You know not how thoroughly Malefor's forces permeate the land. You should not go alone."

Wither nodded and, bolstered by confidence, said, "I wish to bring all of my friends along with me. The Chronicler stated that it would take all of us to fulfill the prophecy, so I cannot leave any of them out of this. It is their destiny, too."

Yarrow sighed and rubbed the length of his muzzle. "Convincing all of their parents to allow them to cross the county and leave the mainland will be a nightmare. Especially considering Dante's Freezer lies between the northern coast and the White Isle. But, leave it to me. You must prepare. A map of Avalar can easily be found in the library. There are multiple courses that lead to the far north which would minimize the danger you will run into. Perhaps it would even be wise for the lot of you to split into two groups. Smaller parties travel more stealthily than a larger one, and there are a great deal of you. Eight in all. If you lead one party and Renna leads another, seeing as she has your crystal, the power would be evenly distributed among you. Ah, what am I saying? It is for you to decide."

"No, that's good advice," said Wither. "I'll keep that in mind. Maybe if we take the twins in separate groups that would give us a way to communicate with one another, too."

Yarrow's mouth tweaked upward at the corners. "Oh, listen to you. What am I worried for. You're going to be just fine. You have always been a smart young dragon. I know you'll handle everything well. All right then. I'll leave you to your job and you leave me to mine. Gather your friends. Use the day wisely."

Wither turned to his parents and took a deep breath. After a moment, he nodded at them both and stepped away from them, disappearing on the spot. Wither tried to go unnoticed as he shifted around the wall and collected his friends. He appeared in the north and whispered to Tera and Sora to follow him. He deposited them in the library and told them to wait for him to come back. He did the same with Roxy, Psy, and Renna in the east. Though this all only took a couple of minutes for Wither to accomplish, by the time he had arrived in the south he couldn't help but notice a buzz of activity in the mental network regarding his absconding with his friends from around the wall. Moles and cheetahs had seen him, but more importantly his friends' parents had noticed his actions, too. Though they were all mostly unfamiliar with the feeling of Wither's mind they sought him out and put questions to him. His only response to their needling inquiries was to speak with Yarrow. He promptly shut them out after that.

Once he found Vera and Elleca he motioned them over to where he had appeared. They bother exchanged quick glances with Wylee who also sat among them and together the three of them walked over to Wither. "Yo Wither, what's up?" said Vera.

He leaned forward and said, "I need you to come with me." He glanced at Wylee and looked him up and down before saying, "You can come, too, if you want to."

"That's just vague enough to be mysteriously intriguing," said Wylee.

They all followed Wither as he hurriedly shifted them. The library appeared before them along with the rest of Wither's friends. Those already present and waiting were seated at a table resting in the open space at the center of the grand hall.

When Wither reappeared with the rest of the group in tow they all stood in expectation. Wither stood at the other side of the table and looked at them all one by one. "My friends, you all mean so very much to me. Over the past several months you have laughed with me, cried with me, fought with me. I can think of no greater gift than the many who stand before me now. That is why I can think of no one but you to accompany me. Tonight, when the enemy retreats and darkness falls, I shall away into the trees and make my way north to the White Isle, legendary home of the Chronicler, who has summoned me to hear his wisdom."

Wither spoke through the gasps of astonishment at his proclamation and explained the details on the reasons for his trip. When he was finished he said, "I will not force any of you to come with me. The choice is yours. Nor will I judge any who wish to stay. I have no delusions about the nature of this quest. It is a perilous endeavor, and one that should not be taken up by any who are unwilling. That said, those of you who want to stay, step forward now and I shall take you back to your places along the wall. Afterward, I will return here to plan the trek with those who remain."

Then Wither waited silently. A clamor of voices filled the air soon afterward. Wither waited until they calmed down. Then Wylee stepped forward and spoke. "I know I probably wasn't on your list initially, but I am personally utterly thrilled by the idea. The excitement, the adventure, the things I'll see and learn. I can't wait. And I know I'll come in handy, too. My survival skills are top notch. Getting my father to agree will be a quick and easy conversation. My people's ways encourage pilgrimages through nature when we are young to prove ourselves. I won't even need my father's consent for this. My people will send me on such a noble quest proudly."

Wither nodded in appreciation. Then looked around the rest of the group. No one had stepped forward. Tera and Vera spoke next. "We're tired of waiting around for something interesting to happen," said Tera.

"Let's get something done for a change," said Vera.

"We've been rotting on top of that wall for four months now."

"Something has to change."

"And if we can make that change happen—"

"—then it'll earn much honor for our family."

"It's really no contest."

"We will come with you."

Psy slammed a paw down on the table. His jaw was clenched dangerously and his eyes were full of passion. "For the fallen and those who yet may fall, I will join you. One needs no other reason."

Elleca rapped the table rather raucously and said, "Hear, hear. Although it doesn't hurt to agree with the twins. Wasting away at the top of the wall is no way to live. I'd rather be living dangerously in the wilderness with you lot than merely surviving here with just a few of you."

Roxy grinned then and said, "Well, if you're going, then I have to. Someone has to keep an eye out for you, too, after all."

Wither bit his lip at this comment but was hushed when Sora finally spoke up and said, "And the same goes for Psy, too."

Now all eyes rested on Renna. She took a deep breath and let it all out. "I'm going. My parents won't like it, but I don't care. I need to get away from them for a while anyway. I'm tired of their constant hovering. Besides, I can't let all of you have this deeply bonding experience without me now, can I? I'd feel all left out among you forever afterward. Plus, I can protect you all about as well as Wither can, I suppose."

Renna trailed off and Wither was left staring at them. They had all agreed. He wasn't surprised, but he was moved nonetheless. Their devotion to the cause, his cause, meant more than he had words for. He nodded then and said, "Right then. Let's get down to business."

Wither marched the group away from the center of the library and out from under the giant mural that dominated the vast, domed ceiling. He led them between two massive shelves filled with more books than one could read in a century. Each shelf rose up to the rafters some hundred feet above. The clicking of claws and scrapping of scales was the only sound where they tread. Eventually, they cleared the shelves and found one end of the library. The wall around the perimeter of the main floor was recessed at regular intervals with private studies and composition rooms for those who wished to do their reading and writing alone or in small groups. An information desk rested between two such rooms near the middle of the wall. This was Wither's destination.

There was but one mole sitting at the desk reading a large leather bound book titled _Ancient Draconic Philosophy and Ethical Conundrums_. He looked up over the top of his book at the sound of the party's approach. A bookmark was inserted and the book was placed on top of the desk. The mole folded his hands together and nodded in greeting. "Hello, Wither. It's been a while since I've seen you last. Been keeping you busy along the wall, eh?"

Wither bowed his head quickly in greeting and cleared his throat. "Greetings, Socrato. We require a study and a comprehensive map of Avalar and her neighboring islands as well as all the topographical maps of the various regions therein that you can find."

Socrato grinned at Wither and the rest of his friends. "Going on a trip, are we?"

As serious as could be, Wither looked Socrato in the face. "Yes, to the White Isle up north. We need to discern the best paths to take so as not to run into an undue amount of danger along the way."

Socrato's face shriveled in an instant, all humor gone. "You can't be serious, Wither. With all those creatures out there?"

"We are aware of the risks. Yarrow has already approved of this venture. Now we must prepare, for we leave tonight. We'll be in the study to the right of your desk. The maps, if you please, Socrato."

The mole hastily pushed back his chair and got to his feet, momentarily disappearing from view behind the desk. "Yes, of course. Right away, Master Wither. I shall return in ten minutes, mark my words."

Wither led his friends inside the room he had indicated and closed the door once they were all inside. Though the room was meant to house small groups it was meant for fully grown dragons. The nine of them, being young, fit comfortably, if snugly into the room. There was an ebony table dominating the center of the room, which possessed retractable legs that could adjust the height of the surface via a device built into the furnishing by the moles who ran the library. Wither lowered the table to accommodate his friends and strode to a pile of cushions that sat piled in a far corner. He pulled one to his place at the table and sat upon it while he waited for the rest of the group to do the same.

Once everyone was comfortable and staring at Wither he addressed them once more. "It is admirable that some of you wish to come along to protect those among us who are especially important to you. However, that said, I find sorting such members of our party into the same groups to be unwise."

Roxy waved a paw in the air and cut in. "Uh, what do you mean by 'groups?' You're not splitting us up, are you?"

Wither cocked his head and said, "Yes. As a matter of fact, I am." He had to place a paw in the air to silence any further comments on this from the rest of them. "There are nine among us. That is a large number of people to be traveling across Avalar together in such troubling times. Smaller parties go unnoticed and are therefore safer in the long run."

"But we need to rely on one another," said Tera.

"There's strength in numbers," said Vera.

"Yes," said Wither. "But we are far more likely to need to defend ourselves more often if we all travel together. And besides, when we do need to face our enemies, we will be ready. We have all trained long and viciously for this. And let's not forget the generous blue crystal deposits the elders gave you. We are strong. We can take care of ourselves."

"Things may be all well and good for the party you lead," said Psy. "But what of the other one? They won't have the freaking Void King to watch over them. Unfair, much?"

Wither shook his head. "I disagree. The other party will have Renna with them. She is a light dragon, which is in itself a major boon. Plus, she wields my crystal. She has access to many of the powers I possess."

Elleca pounded the table for attention. "I have a question. How are we going to meet up when we're close to the White Isle? We could be wandering around up north forever looking for each other. It's not like we can magically know where the other group is."

"Actually, we can," said Wither. "That is if Tera and Vera go in different groups. They always know where the other is. They'll act like beacons to one another when we get close to our destination. Plus, they will allow each group to communicate with one another in case of emergencies." Both of the twins looked sickened by the suggestion of separating, but neither said anything against Wither's idea. It was too good to ignore.

Now Sora stood. Everyone looked in her direction as she prepared to speak. She fixed Wither with a hard gaze and waited a moment while he waited for her to begin. "You said you thought it unwise for those of us who are especially close to go together. Why is that?"

Wither sighed and gave Sora what he hoped was a sorry expression. "We can't afford to make any mistakes on this trip. If we are attacked and one of you is injured—or worse—I don't want anyone to do anything stupid due to impaired judgement. When we separate, each group is to act together as a cohesive team. No, heroes. No, dynamic duos. We do what we must to survive and make it to the coast and from there to the White Isle."

Renna leaned forward and said, "So how do you want the groups split up?"

Wither pondered for a moment. He took a deep breath, his eyes out of focus as he thought, and said, "We have already established that you and I must separate and so too must the twins. And for obvious reasons Roxy had better not go with Elleca, nor Sora with Psy." Everyone remained quiet. After a long pause he continued. "I'll go with Vera, Psy, and Elleca. Renna can go with Tera, Sora, and Roxy. Are there any objections?"

Wither had noticed the flash in Renna's eyes when he lumped himself into the same group with Elleca, but he held her gaze and tilted his head as subtly as he could. _"Don't be petty. Now is not the time."_

Renna lowered her gaze to the table. _"As you say."_

The room remained silent. "Good," said Wither. "I'm glad that's settled." He then turned to Wylee, who had been silent all this time. "What of you, Wylee? With which group do you wish to travel?"

Wylee flicked his eyes around the room and said, "I'll go wherever Elleca goes. I'd rather have her at my back than not any day."

Wither gave a quick nod and said, "Then it's settled. These are the groups we shall remain in until we meet up at the northern coast. We go our own ways once we pass the city walls tonight."

At that moment there was a knock at the door. "Come in," said Wither.

The door opened and Socrato bustled himself inside. He was laden with many scrolls of parchment. Once he reached the table he threw the pile down at the edge and selected the biggest one among them. He reached for a nearby shelf that contained several paperweights and used them to hold down the corners as he unfurled the map on the table. "This is the map of all of Avalar you requested." Once the map was in place he patted the remaining pile of documents. And these are much more detailed maps of specific areas, as you asked. Let me know if you need anything more. I'll be here until sundown. I'll put everything away when you're done with it. And with that, I wish you good luck."

"Thank you, Socrato," said Wither as the mole shut the door behind him.

Now Wither leaned forward again and inspected the map with everyone else. The mainland was a vast continent assorted with many veritable biomes. Warfang was but a mere dot in the southeastern quadrant of the map. To the southwest lay Avalar Valley where the cheetahs traditionally made their homes. Further to the south rested a cluster of islands leading to Munition's Forge, where Arragor had reportedly set up his forces.

Due west of Warfang was a vast expanse labeled as the Mira Desert. Even further to the west of the desert, guarding the western peninsula, were the abandoned lands known as Concurrent Skies. To the north of the desert there sat an equally vast equally barren wasteland the large bold print called Harka Badlands, which stretched all the way up to the northern coast.

On the other side of the map north of Warfang there ran the famous Roh River, which was where Spyro and Cynder had temporarily halted the massive golem king, the great Destroyer, a couple decades past. The river spanned all the way from the eastern coast across the northern section of Mira Desert to the middle of the sandy dunes. Off the coast was a collection of scattered islands that indicated the Tall Plains. Further north on the east side there sprawled a forest easily the size of the badlands on the far end of the map called Sage Wood.

Between the badlands and the forest up north there sat a wide expanse of open plains. North of this was Dante's Freezer, and though it was not included on the map, the White Isle beyond. And in the center of the map, surrounded by all, there loomed Mount Genesis, which was utterly enveloped by the Burned Lands, which had still yet to recover from the fiery trauma of Malefor's last reign.

Once he had taken it all in, Wither took a deep breath and said, "Okay, let's get started then." The debate lasted for three hours. Everyone had differing opinions about which ways were the safest, quickest, and easiest. It didn't help matters that at one point not far into the discussion many of the group's parents started tapping into their minds and began to assail them with questions and demands for explanations. However, before they could finish their rants, Wither released a wave of nothingness and severed the entire party's telepathic connection to the rest of the city by absorbing all of Yarrow's incoming life magic. He would not have them bothered by their families until it was time to say goodbye. For the time being, their attention belonged to him and the mission that lay ahead of them.

After the deliberations were finished and everyone more or less agreed on the course of action they were to take, Wither dropped the ward around the group. They were instantly reconnected with the city, something that did not go unnoticed. It appeared that everyone in the city had learned of their impending adventure and were waiting for them to finish their meeting. A single telepathic impression was sent to the entire city by Yarrow, giving the unmistakable signal for silence.

" _Have you finished then?"_

Wither answered his master. _"We have. And you?"_

" _You are all free to go, but spend the rest of the day with your families. I have given them leave from the wall to say their goodbyes. They shall await you at your respective homes."_

Wither looked around the table then and said both with his mind and aloud, "At sundown, meet me at the northern gate." He then shifted home.

He appeared in his room. Everything in the room was covered in a fine layer of dust. There hadn't been much of a need for him to use his own room since the war started picking up. His parents had insisted on him sleeping with them to ensure his maximum safety. For though their house was layered with traps meant to snare or otherwise eliminate intruders, no place in the house was more heavily guarded than the master bedroom when its defense orbs were lit. They allowed no entry into the room, magical or physical unless permission was granted from within.

Now he looked around the space he had called his own for all his life. Wither had never spent a night anywhere other than his parents' room, Yarrow's house, and his own room. He walked across the room, past the bed cushions and up to the mirror affixed to the wall. He wiped at the sprinkling of dust particles that had settled there and looked at himself surrounded by the luxury his parents had heaped around him. Everything in the room was top quality. The silken and velvety bedding, the magical artifacts surrounding him, even the walls, which were painted in a panoramic story of how the ancient dragon gods created the world and defeated the original Fearsome Four, the evil spirits of destruction. No other dragon family in all of Warfang lived in such comfort. Other important individuals came close, but Wither was especially privileged, this he knew.

His family was the heart of the dragon race's strength, the core of their integrity, the living embodiment of their pride. Now, it was time to earn the right to such a life, to live up to the house name. He was a DeSpyro. Perhaps not the last, for his parents were still young, but the only one so far. He was a legacy. He could not, would not shame them. He would match their brilliance, make a name for himself. He would come into his own.

The sound of scraping and clicking broke him out of his reverie. He turned and saw his parents making their way through the doorway. His father walked to the back of the room where the bed lay and sat. He smiled. "I remember the first time we tried to get you to sleep on your own in here. Oh, how hard it was to get you to stay in here. You'd always come climbing up the stairs and into our room. It took us a month to get you to stay the night through."

Wither walked over to where his father sat and placed a paw on his. "I think I vaguely remember that. The house was dark and cold and scary at night, but it wasn't quiet enough. There were always faint noises that I thought I could hear. When the night is that still, it can play tricks on you. Your imagination can turn on you pretty ruthlessly."

Cynder sat on Wither's other side and placed a paw on his back. "I know exactly what you mean. The night conceals. That which you cannot see is that which you cannot know. And there is nothing we fear more than what we don't understand. You were young then, and you still are, but you have grown much since then. Still, you have much growing to do, as do we all. We never stop growing, but we never stop being afraid either."

Wither lowered his head. "I am afraid."

"Good," said Spyro. "You should be. Your fear will keep you safe, it will give you strength. Just make sure you don't let it over power you. It can cripple you, too. Just remember that you have to use your head as well as your instincts. Neither one of them can serve you all the time, but together they are your greatest allies."

Wither placed his head on his father's leg and allowed his parents to hold him in silence.

XXX

Wylee stepped into the yard of the barracks where the cheetahs bunked. The barracks were simple one story complexes capable of housing dozens of their people. The buildings were never intended to accommodate dragons, though they were capable of squeezing their way through the doorways when necessary so long as they weren't so old they had grown too much for it. Wylee walked down the dirt path his people had worn from the street to the door and pulled it open. Sure enough, Hunter, his father, was inside sitting on his cot, waiting for him.

The war seasoned cheetah looked up and gave his son a broad grin. "So, you've decided to accompany the dragons on their quest, eh?"

Wylee walked over and sat down on his cot several feet in front of his father. "Yeah, like father like son, I guess. You helped Spyro through his adventures back in the day and now I'm doing the same for his son."

Hunter let out a powerful laugh that echoed in the empty barracks. "It's starting to become a family business, isn't it? Helping legendary heroes. Pretty soon our family will be as famous among our people as Spyro's is among his."

Hunter leaned forward and slapped Wylee on the knee, gripping him firmly. "I've said it often enough, but I'm proud of you Wylee. You have every bit of your old man's fighting prowess and adventurous spirit." Hunter leaned forward then and closed his eyes, his face growing sober. Then he opened eyes again and looked at his son, more serious than before. "And nature seems to have also blessed you with the wild intelligence and ferocious curiosity of your mother."

Wylee took in a quick breath and glanced around the room quickly. Until just a few months ago, Hunter had refused to ever so much as speak of Wylee's mother. But after speaking of her in the hallucinations of a fever dream, Wylee had urged his father to talk. As it turned out Hunter had remained silent about Wylee's mother to protect the both of them. For Wylee's mother had secretly not been a cheetah. The interspecies taboo among their people was grounds for immediate and violent exile. Historically, some of those guilty of breaking the all-important social law were chased not only from their homes and villages, but the lands surrounding them, so that their taint would not poison the race. Children begotten by such pairings were especially reviled, regarded as abominations, their very existence a crime against nature. As a result, Wylee's mother was a closely guarded family secret.

Luckily, Wylee had inherited the physical characteristics of his father's race, so his mixed blood was not apparent simply by looking at him. But if anyone ever found out they would never be welcomed among their people again. It had taken some time for Wylee to become accustomed to the idea that he was a hybrid, though he still struggled with the implications. Ever since he learned the truth about his mother and himself, he had always wanted to talk to his father about it, but between the war and the rest of the cheetahs along the wall, he had never had much chance.

Wylee lowered his gaze to the floor. "Tell me, what kind of woman was she?"

Hunter settled his gaze on the concrete between his boots as well. "She was everything I ever wanted in a wife and more. Like you, she had the wit of an ancient dragon. She was always searching and researching, through books, out in the forest, up in the sky."

"In the sky?"

"She had a telescope. Stargazing was just one of her many hobbies. It astounds me how very like her you are. She looked for new knowledge wherever she believed she would find it, because she believed, just as you do, that the things which can be observed in nature, simple everyday occurrences, weave together to form a big picture. And if one can piece together enough information that forms that big picture, they can begin to see the way the world operates and understand how its smallest machinations brings about the biggest workings. She even went so far as to believe that if one understood enough about how the universe, as she called it, worked, they could control certain aspects of reality purely by virtue of that understanding."

Wylee had looked up and was staring at his father in utter awe. He had just described the biggest theory that Wylee had always held onto his whole life. His mother, she had realized what he had, too. "Quantum manipulation via external impression of universal cognizance."

Hunter sat bolt upright and stared at Wylee, wide eyed. "I don't believe it. She used to use that phrase all the time. I never really understood what all those big words meant, but she always just said that it was a glorified explanation for—"

"Magic," said Wylee, as he breathed the word.

Hunter clasped his hands together and looked down at them, deep in thought. Then, "When I say your mother was intelligent, I can't truly convey how much she knew in mere words. She was always writing in books after reading from others that she had acquired or taking notes while staring at something seemingly random in nature. But after a while she started taking scraps of the most precious of her notes and deriving new notations from them, piecing them together in a single tome."

Hunter looked back up at Wylee. "And armed with that book, she began to cast increasingly powerful and complex spells. And so it was that your mother taught herself how to use magic."

Wylee clasped his arms around himself. He was surprised to find that he was shivering with excitement. "Just to clarify, she had no magical lineage or enchanted artifact to help her?"

Hunter shook his head. "No, she explained to me that one need not come from magic to work it. If only everyone could grasp the knowledge, anyone could impress their will on reality and work change with sheer force of thought. When she used it, the magic always seemed to spring from nature, like she wasn't even the conduit, but merely a puppeteer telling the world how to be, or an artist trying to reshape it to her desire. After much practice, she eventually forwent the use of her book a great deal of the time, saying she no longer needed it for what she knew. Though she always added more to it and consulted it to remind herself of how several obscure aspects of nature were connected so that she could work the magic in new ways."

Wylee clutched his stomach. He was so excited he felt like he was about to lose his breakfast. "So it is possible. After all this time, I was right. I just have to learn more, and I, too, could be—" Wylee looked up at his father, never before had they talked so much about Wylee's mother. Now another thought took root in his mind.

"So, what happened to her, anyway?"

The lines in Hunter's face deepened and he suddenly looked weary. He shrugged and said, "No idea. Everything was going wonderfully. We had a perfect life. We were both happy. And then one day, she was gone. She left this note as explanation. From a pocket inside Hunter's cloak, Wylee's father withdrew a brown folded piece of parchment. It was so worn along the fold lines that tiny holes had appeared at the intersections were the piece had been opened and closed thousands of times.

Wylee took the parchment from his father and unfolded it.

 _Dear Hunter,_

 _By the time you read this, I will already be far, far away. Please don't hate me. Trust me, I have my reasons, but I'm not so certain you would understand. There is much to do and little time to prepare. I hope I still have time to make a difference. You will come to understand in time. I'm doing this for our little Wy. When the time comes, I will return to you both, but until then, I must ask you not to go looking for me. I love you so much, Hunter. Take care of Wylee. I'll always be thinking of my two special boys._

 _With all my heart and soul,  
Bianca_

Wylee soaked in every word slowly, making sure not to miss anything. When he was finished reading the note, he stared silently at the signature repeating the name inscribed at the end over and over in his mind. _Bianca, Bianca, Bianca. My mother's name is Bianca._

Wylee carefully refolded the note and handed it back to his father. Once he had it tucked away again, Wylee asked, "Was there no warning of her departure?"

"None," said Hunter. "Her sudden absence was utterly inexplicable. It broke my heart. And so I left the home we had made ourselves and took you to my old village. And you know the rest."

Wylee stood then and stretched out his muscles. "This just means one thing."

Hunter allowed a faint smile to touch his lips, although it did not reach his eyes. "Oh yeah? What's that?"

Wylee stared back at his father and said, "She learned something important and went on a quest so precious that she had to sacrifice a life with us. That means she's still out there somewhere. And I swear, if it takes until my dying day, I'm going to find her."

XXX

The sky burned orange with the fire of dying sunlight. Large purple streaks of clouds floated over the horizon. The first pinpricks of starlight began to poke their way through the endless canopy above. Wither stood by the northern gate to Warfang, waiting for the rest of his friends to arrive. His parents stood by his side, ready to bid him farewell one last time. One by one, his friends came into view from far down the main road and out of side streets, shuffling their way through the crowd that had gathered to see them off. They all had their parents in tow, the older, larger dragons catching sight of Spyro and Cynder only to look down at Wither between them. He didn't know any of his friends' parents too terribly well save Renna's, so he didn't know how to interpret their calculating gazes. He felt that in their minds, as they looked at him, this was the dragon youngling who was taking their children away from the safety of the city and into the clutches of the dangers that awaited them in the wilderness.

Wylee was the first to show up. He had his father and the young cheetah girl, Brook beside him. Wylee nodded and waved at Wither with an excited grin. Once they had stopped, Brook grasped Wylee around the waist and squeezed him with borderline aggressive force. He hugged her back and before she let go he bent down and kissed her on the forehead. In response she immediately pushed him away and slugged him on the upper arm, eliciting a groan of moderate pain.

Psy and Sora came together as well as Roxy and Elleca. It was clear to Wither that they had been busy saying their separate goodbyes as well. Roxy's eyes were red, as were Psy's. Elleca was stone faced, her feelings indecipherable. Sora simply dragged her wings along the ground, looking hopelessly forlorn. When Tera and Vera arrived they had their tales entwined so tightly it looked as though they only had the one between them.

The last to arrive was Renna, who nodded and greeted the rest of her friends in turn. She embraced those who were assigned to the other party and whispered into their ears before moving on. At last, she made her way to Wither and stopped in front of him. He inclined his head and looked at her seriously. It was futile to try to smile. "Are you ready?"

Renna took a deep breath and said, "No, but let's hurry up and get this over with. The longer it will take the harder it will be."

Wither nodded and said, "Agreed." He turned to the rest of his friends and said, "We make for the tree line at the edge of the field and then we separate. All right. Open the gates!"

Several moles in the gatehouses on either side of the massive doors pulled the cranks that opened the doors slowly inward. After several seconds of squeaking and grinding, they banged to a halt. The field outside was quite empty now. The enemy had finished their assault for the day half an hour ago. In the last moments before their departure, the telepathic connection that Yarrow maintained for the city rippled and a wave of raw emotion swept throughout all of Warfang. Then the ancient spoke. It was obvious to all to whom his words were directed.

" _Over the years I have watched you grow. I have taught you the most important lessons in life that one can teach another. The rest you'll have to glean from experience. You are like a son to me. Be safe, be confident, be cautious, be brave, be humble, be strong. But most importantly, never forget to be yourself. Don't lose sight of who you are or where you come from. I am proud of you. Now go, and prove to all how great you are. And please return to us in one piece. Safe travels. I eagerly await your return, Imago."_

Wither's mouth fell open in unmasked astonishment and placed his paws over his mouth as he stared out into the depths of the city, down the middle of the street. Tears sprung into his eyes and his heart fluttered in his chest as all the citizens of Warfang turned to stare wide eyed at Wither and bowed their heads low to him. He turned to his parents who sat beaming at him and lowered their heads briefly.

His father placed a paw firmly on his should and squeezed once before letting go and holding out a paw. "Safe travels, Imago."

Cynder placed her forehead against her son's and whispered, "We love you, Imago."

She rose up then and Wither brushed furiously at his face before turning and quickly making his way through the gate. He could say no more, and he had already said his goodbyes. His friends followed him through the gate and out across the field. His friends took wing and cleared the obstacles meant for the opposing armies while Wither glided over them with the help of his nothingness. Wylee jumped the inner moat and weaved his way through the blockades before grabbing on to Elleca and Sora's paws as they swooped down briefly to carry him over the outer moat. Once everyone was past the defenses they all touched down and walked the rest of the way, listening to the sounds of the gate grinding shut behind them and the endless chorus of chirping insects before them.

When they met up again, Wylee fell in step beside Wither. "What was that all about? Your name _is_ Wither, right? Why did they all call you Imago?"

Wither stared straight ahead at the trees as he answered dreamily, "It is my honor name."

Wylee appeared puzzled by that. "Honor name?"

Elleca sped up and walked on Wylee's other side. "Every dragon has three names. First is our common name, the name we go by on a daily basis. Last is our house name, which is just the prefix "De" followed by our sire's name. And in the middle is our honor name, which is used in only the utmost formal occasions, or when one wishes to honor a dragon in the most profound way possible. A dragon's honor name is generally never spoken more than once or twice a year, and even then, that's lucky."

Wylee looked back at Wither. "Wow, I had no idea. No one ever mentioned that to me before. So then, what's your honor name, Elleca?"

Elleca stiffened a bit at the inquiry, but then relaxed and looked up at Wylee. "Generally, it's considered ill form to mention one's honor name unless an elder or superior of some other sort is asking it of you. But since you're a friend, I'll tell you. It's Anais. But please do not ever call me that. At least not until you're absolutely certain how to use it properly. An improper use or even overuse of a dragon's honor name is a desecration of our very identity."

Wylee nodded in understanding. "Thank you for sharing your honor name with me, Elleca. I promise not to abuse the knowledge."

After a few more minutes of walking the group made it to the edge of the trees. They all stopped then and stared at one another. This was the last time they would see each other again until they made it to the northern coast. It was a journey that was expected to take nearly two weeks to complete plus an extra week to get to the White Isle. They all embraced each other and said their farewells one last time and turned away from each other bitterly. Renna, Tera, Sora, and Roxy turned to the west where the Mira Desert awaiting. Wither, Vera, Psy, Elleca, and Wylee set course for the Sage Wood in the northeast. For a few seconds, all the members of both parties could hear the other group walking away into the trees. Then they were on their own and on their way across the land.


	3. Chapter 3-Mira Desert

Chapter 3-Mira Desert

The night was not something that Renna was used to powering through in one cautious, though nevertheless, hasty tromp betwixt the trees of the northern wood outside the safety of Warfang's walls. In fact, Renna could scarcely remember a time when she was outside the walls of Warfang without supervision from an older dragon. This was also the first time she could remember having the intention of staying awake until the start of the next day without getting a good night's rest. Always she had adhered to the guidelines set up for her to follow through childhood by her parents and later her instructors.

She was surprised to find that though the hour when she should have been tucked away under her mother's wing was long past, she was yet to feel the worse for it. She had expected the night to be utterly miserable and uneventful, measured out tediously by one dogged step through the underbrush after another. However, the sudden and unwavering thrill of setting out on an adventure with her friends invigorated her spirit in a way that she was altogether unfamiliar with. As she picked her way through brambles that slid harmlessly off her scales and leaped nimbly over gnarled, jutted roots with her friends, she felt in her chest the bursting energy of freedom. It was the excitement of danger, the fear of the unknown, and the drive of purpose all rolled together and she embraced it.

No mother out here to tell her which way was proper. No need for a father to shield her from the overbearing nature of the former. No master to point out this, that, and the other flaw in her form and instruct her on proper technique, drilling her over and over until she performed in a satisfactory manner. She was alone with her friends. The decisions that they were to make were theirs to decide with no resulting consequences save those life threw their way.

Renna bounded over another root and bounced off a boulder, maintaining her momentum as she rushed westward. She looked to her left where Tera and Sora ran wordlessly beside her. She glanced to the right and glimpsed Roxy pumping his powerful legs, his paws pounding across the forest floor, his muscular chest heaving in his effort to keep up with the lithe dragonesses in his party. After a couple hours, Renna ground to a halt and waited while her friends did the same. Tera and Sora appeared only mildly strained, but Roxy was heavier than the rest of them and required a moment to rest. After all, it would not do to tire themselves out after the first night of their journey.

Once they were gathered together Renna inclined her head to Roxy. "Need a break?"

Roxy sat and took several controlled breaths to lower his heartbeat. "Five minutes. And I need water."

Sora cocked her head and gave a quiet sniff. "There's some water about twenty yards that way." She pointed off to the left of the path they had been forging through the woods. About a minute walk in that direction revealed a narrow creek gurgling and lapping its way over rocks. The water was too shallow to expect to find fish in it later should they follow it further upstream during their trek, but it was clear and cool, which suited their present needs. After they had their fill they lay by the bank and rested their muscles while they caught their breath.

Renna tilted her head back and gazed wide eyed at the stars poking through the leafy canopy above. "Is it just me or are they a little brighter out here?"

Tera looked up and nodded once. "Yup. Without the lights of the city to blot them out, they have a bit more of a chance to shine out here."

"It's beautiful," said Sora.

Roxy looked up and cast his head about until he found the moons. He smiled and sat back, watching the two celestial bodies. "Before we left, Elleca and I agreed that we would always take a moment to look at the moons each night. That way it's like we're not really separated on account of the fact that we're looking at the same moons."

Sora's eyes twinkled as she looked upon the moons once more. "What a lovely sentiment. I wish Psy and I had of thought of that. Although, we have something else; we agreed to think of our favorite song before we go to sleep each night."

Tera gave a half-smile, one corner of her muzzle lifting ever so slightly. "Vera and I don't need anything like that. We can sense each other even from this distance. Though I do wish we could be close again. The separation makes my heart ache."

Renna looked away from the moons and the stars and glanced down at the crystal that hung at her breast. "And so long as I have this, it's like I'm actually carrying a little piece of Wither with me." She looked at each of her friends in turn and gave them the happiest smile she could muster. "So it's as you said, Roxy; we're not separate at all. We each carry the rest of our friends with us in here." Renna rested a paw over the crystal, and thus, over her heart.

"What about Wylee?" said Roxy.

Renna rose to her feet and said, "He is in our thoughts as well. Now come on. That's enough rest."

They traveled through the forest for several hours more, stopping only occasionally to drink at a nearby stream. When they walked, there was no need for words. Time felt much different as they passed between tree after fern after rock after bush. It moved much more slowly yet quickly at the same time. After what felt like something between an hour and a day, their surroundings began to seem steadily clearer.

After an indeterminate amount of time a groan broke the night long silence. "The sun's rising," said Roxy.

Renna and the rest of the dragonesses looked over their shoulders to confirm the unexpected statement. Sure enough, a tinge of pink filled the sky behind them, peeking through the leaves above. Renna urged everyone on for about another hour. The sky was significantly brighter by the time they reached the edge of the woods and the trees parted to reveal an open grassy meadow that stretched away into the distance. To the south was much the same as the west. However, the Roh River exited the woods a couple miles to the north. Its shimmering silver surface could be seen from the top of the knoll where they stood, surveying the land.

Renna pointed and said, "We need to get to the river before we settle down. We can try our paws at fishing when we wake up later. How's that sound?"

Everyone mumbled in agreement before heading back into the woods a ways and trudging further northward. Continuing through the trees was not as easy as it would have been walking through the grass, as Roxy was quick to point out. However, Renna agreed with him and then noted that it was a lot easier to spot a group of travelers when they weren't concealed by the trees. Roxy said no more and they continued on their way.

By the time they could hear the river Renna could tell that the others were exhausted. She held up a paw and said, "We'll sleep here. I'll take first watch, everyone get some rest."

Roxy flopped down on his side and shielded his face from the sun with a wing while Tera and Sora curled up and wrapped their tails around themselves. As they slept, Renna watched and listened to the forest all around. As the sun continued to rise, the noises of the night were steadily replaced by the stillness of the day. Nocturnal creatures were always so much noisier than those that operated under the sun. Now all she could hear was the inexorable rushing of the river in the distance. Out here in the wilds they appeared to be all the life in the world. But Renna knew better than to believe that.

The silence of the woods pressed upon her, heightening her awareness and putting her somewhat on edge. There was no reason to believe that just because they were no longer under the protection of the city they were now in terrible danger. Malefor appeared to be focusing all of his forces on Warfang, and he had no reason to believe that they had left the city. Even if he knew where they were, why should he care about a measly group of younglings? Really, it was Wither's group that was more in danger; Wither was the one he wanted. So there was no reason to believe that there was any trouble lurking about other than the natural predators of the area, which should be no match for four dragons, even of their youth. After all, they had each consumed enough blue crystals to give them the elemental powers of hundred year old dragons. They were each a force to be reckoned with on their own. Together, they were mighty indeed.

These thoughts put Renna at ease and she forgot the eeriness of the silence all around. Then she heard a twig snap behind her. She whirled around in an instant and caught a glimpse of a deer bounding away, frightened by her sudden movement. Renna settled down again, breathing slowly to calm her racing heart. This was silly. Her fears were not unfounded, but she realized how childish it was to let them control her so. Remain calm, but vigilant, she told herself as she stared out into the woods all around, pacing a circuit around her sleeping friends so that she could watch all sides. Plus, the movement kept her awake. Without the steady progress of moving forward, the roiling energy at her core last night had burnt out and left her feeling just as weary as her friends had looked before they collapsed where they lay.

And so it was with some relief that, after a couple of hours, Renna awoke Sora and switched out with her before curling up where Sora had lain before drifting off to sleep. It was Roxy who woke them up some hours later. Renna rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and looked up. It was just past high sun. It felt strange to not be on the wall observing the defense of Warfang with the rest of the dragons, cheetahs, and moles. They had a very different job ahead of them now. But that would have to wait. Renna's stomach gave a gurgle of complaint. It was already past time for her second meal of the day and yet she had had nothing since before leaving the city almost eighteen hours ago.

"All right everyone. Who's ready to go fishing? I know I'm starving."

They all made their way wordlessly down to the river. Renna soon learned that most of her friends were not morning people. After a few minutes they broke free of the northern end of the woods and arrived at the Roh River. It was quite a ways across. They would have to fly if they ever wanted to cross to the other side. Renna looked out over the water and scratched her head for a moment while she thought. "I've never actually fished before, come to think of it. I'm not sure I know how."

Sora took off and circled low over the water as a vulture would. After a few lazy loops she ducked down and attacked the surface of the river, sending a cold spray through the air. Just seconds later she rose up and flew to the bank, a sizable pike held firmly in her talons. She landed next to Renna and dropped the fish, already dead, upon the ground and tore into it.

"How did you do that on your first try?" asked Renna. She glanced around at the others to see if they were in just as much disbelief as she was.

Sora swallowed her first bite and said, "My parents used to take me fishing all the time. Once I learned how to fly, they taught me. I've been doing it for seven years now. I thought I told you this."

Renna shook her head. "Not that I remember. Maybe you told Psy. Do you think you could teach me?"

Sora nodded and took off once more. Tera and Roxy followed. As they circled Sora gave them all instructions. "Fly low and look at the water around you in general. Try not to focus too much on any one point. This river is full of fish, so it shouldn't take you long at all to locate some shadows moving through the water. Once you've got one in your sights, just do what comes natural." Sora swooped down and plunged her claws into the waters once more and brought up a bass before making her way back to shore with it.

Tera was the next to dive. She struck the water in much the same manner as Sora had, though the current nearly dragged her further into the river. She flapped her wings furiously in an attempt to break free and pulled her legs out of the rapids, gripping a wriggling trout in her claws. She let out a whoop of glee and flew to shore with Sora.

Emboldened by Tera's success, Roxy was the next to dive. He misjudged the speed and power of his descent and nearly submerged the entire lower half of his body. After flailing around for a couple seconds he pumped his wings desperately to break free of the water's embrace. He, too, came away with a pike much the size of the one Sora caught.

Renna looked down at the river's surface. Glistening flashes of silver and white surged past in an endless charge to the west. After a few seconds, Renna noticed shadows flitting about just below the surface. She turned from one group to another, trying to locate something sizeable, yet not too difficult to carry back to shore. Finally, she made her selection and dove. The water's chill was piercing, not that it bothered her too terribly as a dragon's body was built to weather the most biting cold and the most blistering heat. Still, the initial shock before her body adjusted her core temperature to cope was enough to make her gasp. She nearly inhaled a gulp of water and floundered about with her wings and paws, trying to stay aloft without getting pulled into the river while grasping for the fish that darted away beneath her blindly squirming body.

After only a few seconds she had to pull herself away from the river and rise up, empty pawed. She glanced over at her friends, her pride a bit wounded that she was the only one to come away unsuccessful. Sora waved her over, but Renna didn't want to give up. She looked down into the river again and found a few more shadows. She lunged forward and struck the water, writhing this way and that with her paws, her talons groping aimlessly at nothing. Once again she was nearly pulled into the river; once again she pulled herself away without a prize.

Faintly, over the roaring waters Renna could hear Sora telling her to come back and take the extra fish, but Renna wanted to give it one more try. She steadied herself on an updraft and sailed further upstream before looping back around and diving at an angle, moving with the current. She struck the water and lashed out with her claws, catching something between her razor sharp claws and pulled up laughing in triumph.

On the shore she could hear her friends laughing, too. At first she waved at them with a huge grin on her face, thinking they were cheering her on, but then she looked down and saw the trout she had captured was just large enough to fit in her mouth. Sourness welled up inside her and her claws, nearly rigid as stone, let go of the fish and allowed it to tumble back into the water below. She flew the rest of the way to shore and landed next to Sora.

Though Sora did her best to find a bemused smile, Tera and Roxy were still giggling at Renna's performance. "Why'd you let it go?" said Roxy. "You could have tucked it behind a horn to snack on later."

Renna gazed blankly at him, unamused by his joke. "I've never been fishing before. It was my first time."

"I'll say, you did nearly as poorly as I did my first time," said Roxy as he continued to chuckle to himself and eat his fish.

Renna perked up and looked at him. "You've fished before, too?"

He swallowed his bite and said, "Yeah, I didn't make a regular thing of it, and I'm certainly not as good at it as Sora is, but my parents would take me fishing with Elleca and her parents a couple times a year. You should have seen how awful I was at it the first time. I nearly drowned myself. My dad had to pull me out of the lake. Oh, and lake fishing is different from river fishing." He gestured to the river and said, "This is a lot more dangerous than doing it in a lake. And the current makes it a lot harder in my opinion, too. Even with your first time being in a river, you did great to catch something on your third try, even if it was that little appetizer."

"Oh, well that makes me feel a bit better then. Thank you. What about you, Tera? Have you ever been fishing before?"

Tera grinned and shook her head. "Nope, never. I guess I just got lucky."

Renna blinked and turned to Sora, who pushed the second fish she caught toward Renna. "Don't worry about it. You just need some practice is all. It wasn't any trouble for me to catch an extra. It's all yours."

Renna started in on her fish and looked up after a few moments of chewing. "Hey, Tera. Any news on the others?"

Tera frowned and swallowed her bite of trout before shaking her head. "Don't get too excited. I won't be able to tell you much until we meet up later. This amount of distance makes the connection too weak to know exactly what's happening to Vera, but if anything bad had happened to her, I would know about it."

Renna nodded and said, "At least that much is comforting to know."

"What about you?" said Tera as she eyed the crystal on Renna's necklace. "Can't you talk to Wither through that thing?"

Renna cocked her head and touched the black gem that Wither had given her for protection from forces unknown after Holly, the last Life Master and an ancestor, had told Renna that she could sense particularly dire danger in her future. The crystal was an exceedingly powerful magical artifact, and indeed, she did not know all that she was capable of accomplishing with it. It hadn't come with an instruction manual. And Wither had told her only the things that he knew how to do with his own power. The limits of the gem's capabilities were set mostly by her imagination.

Now that she imagined using it to speak with Wither, she held the thing in a paw and thought for a moment. "He uses the nothingness to eliminate the distance between two points so that they're right next to each other. That's how he shifts and listens to conversations from afar. But I can't visualize the space between us. It's too big and I've not seen it all myself. I need to be familiar with the space in between us."

Renna dug her claws into the pebbles on the shore, scattering them about. "We should have planned this out better. It doesn't matter that you and your sister are separated. We're still cut off from each other."

"Hey, that's not true," said Roxy. The bulky earth dragon leaned forward and placed a paw on Renna's shoulder. "You said it yourself. In our own ways we carry our friends with us in our hearts. So long as we keep pushing forward and don't look back, we'll see our friends again. But for now, our memories and the promise of making more with them will have to see us through the rest of this journey. Don't get so down. This is only the beginning. We have so much more to see."

Renna looked up and gave Roxy the brightest smile she could muster. Her scales brightened a fraction and a dreariness that had clouded her mind fled her at Roxy's words of encouragement, replaced by the same fire of freedom and the unexplored unknown from the night before. "You're right. I'm sorry. This is just new to me. It's all so sudden it's got me all out of sorts, but it's exhilarating, too. I just can't settle my thoughts on it all."

"Don't feel like you're alone," said Sora. She placed a paw on Renna's, her eyes crinkling, forming her trademark picture of sincerity and compassion. "This is hard for all of us, but exciting, too. Try not to focus too much on the negative. Acknowledge it, for it is there, but don't let it own you. It will do you no good, only pain and worry. Embrace life, and the newness that it still contains for you. There will come a day when that'll be gone for good and you'll miss it. Don't miss it all the more for never having enjoyed it."

Renna brightened all the more at Sora's words. "You always know just what to say."

Sora hummed and stood, turning to look out over the plains that stretched into the west. "We had best make a plan on how we're to get to where we're going. It may be a bit more difficult than it appears. From here it looks like there's nothing but open fields from here to the desert. If we try to cross that, there'll be no cover for who knows how long. There'd be no shelter, nowhere to hide, no advantageous ground to fight from. Food and water shouldn't be a problem if we follow the river, but where there's water there's life. Other creatures will flock to it. Some are bound to be native to these lands. Others? Who knows? We really have no way of knowing if Warfang is the only location Malefor is focused on. We already know he took four other lands for Arragor and his fellow delinquents prior to his campaign against Warfang. Perhaps he has expanded his territories in the interim."

Renna looked past Sora as she spoke. The grasslands fled into the distance to merge with the sky on the horizon. The only noticeable movement was the wind tousling the grass in rippling waves. To the right the Roh River wound a snake trail into the distance. On the left there were a few rolling hills that eventually diminished the further westward they went. On the other side of the river were more fields. Although these were suddenly and violently replaced by the scarred and ruined Burned Lands that surrounded the mountain that Malefor called his home.

There was no need to discuss traveling any closer to those cursed lands. Everyone had agreed in their meeting in the library that they would give the Burned Lands, and thus, the Dark Master himself, a wide berth. It was too dangerous for any of them to confront Malefor until they had heard the Chronicler's wisdom. That was the weapon that would grant them the power they desperately needed over their foe.

Renna cast her thoughts aside and looked between her friends. "There's no helping it. We'll have to cross the plains. There's no other way. But you're right, Sora. It is dangerous. We'll be totally exposed while we're out there. The safest way is to wait in the woods until nightfall and make as much progress as we can while under the cover of darkness."

Tera gave Renna a skeptical side glance and eyed her up and down. "I like your plan, Renna. I really do. But, uh, you're not exactly that stealthy even in the dark, if you know what I mean."

Renna looked down and noticed a few dots of light dash around her paws on the ground with her head movement. "Oh," was all she could think to say. She looked up and saw all of her friends scrutinizing her with appraising looks on their faces. Renna threw up her arms. "Well, it's not my fault I'm so bright. I am a light dragon, after all. It's not like I can dim this down," she said as she gestured to her glistening scales. "It just comes natural."

Tera scratched her chin for a moment in thought before waving Renna's defensive comments aside. "No, no. You're right about it not being your fault. But you're wrong about not being able to turn it down."

Renna cocked her head in confusion. "Huh? I don't follow. What are you saying?"

Roxy grinned then and said, "Does this mean Renna's going to be a dirty dragoness?"

Renna reared her head back at the unexpected comment. "I beg your pardon?"

Roxy dug his claws into the ground and raked the pebbles aside. "Oh, get your mind out of the gutter." He raised his paw toward her, rubbing the mud he had scooped up between his claws.

Renna felt her wings droop a little and she let out a huff. "Oh. Great. Problem solved."

After the last light faded from the evening sky the four of them took flight, leaving the woods behind them to barrel over the plains as fast as their slowest companion. Sora had to take it slow so as to not lose her friends, and even Tera appeared as though she did not have to exert herself as much as she had anticipated. Roxy slowed them ever so slightly. His wings were still not powerful enough to carry his bulky frame at great speed for extended periods of time. But of them all, Renna suspected that it was she who had the worst time of it.

Tera's solution to her natural radiance was efficient, if disdainful. Her friends had slathered her entire body with river mud in the late afternoon. It coated her scales with its brown, slimy, sticky substance. At first, it hadn't been too bad, as they had started with her back and sides. Then came the underbelly, which tickled more than she would have liked to admit. Though as embarrassing as her fits of laughter at her friends' application of the muck to her underside was, the process became more unpleasant as it went. Sora and Tera applied more to her tail and backside while Roxy carefully covered her face and neck. Having the goop cling around her eyes and over her snout was a terribly uncomfortable sensation that drove her to the urge to jump in the river and roll around under the water until she was utterly clean.

Of course, she couldn't fulfill this desire and was instead forced to wait in the woods with her friends while the paste dried on her body. Some of it cracked and flaked off, but for the most part she was enveloped in the stuff. Now she flew beside her friends and tried not to pick at the cloaking armor that covered her head to tail. Some spots were still semi-visible after some of the pieces fell off, but from a distance, she would have been more difficult to spot than any other member of the group.

"How are you holding up, Renna?" said Sora.

"Dirty," said Renna with a self pitying whimper. "My mother would faint if she could see me now. My scales have always been my pride and joy, and now I'm—I'm—"

"Camouflaged?" said Tera. "Get over yourself. You'll be fine. Who knows what sacrifices we'll have to make during this journey? If this is the worst thing that happens to you during the trip then you should count yourself lucky."

Renna knew Tera was right. Still, it did not do being this dirty. Renna would wash herself of the filth that choked her beauty the first chance she got, and before anyone else saw her in her current state.

Grunts of strain and effort sounded through the air behind Renna, and she looked over her shoulder to see what was the matter. "Everything okay back there, Roxy? Need a break?"

Roxy kept huffing and pumping his wings, but refused to reply to Renna's query. After a few seconds it became apparent to her that this was because he couldn't afford the breath. She turned her head forward again and said, "Let's land for a bit. Roxy needs a breather."

They all spiraled down to the grass below and settled gently several yards from the river. Roxy lumbered over to the rushing waters and drank, though not too deeply so as to upset his stomach, there was still more traveling to be done. He came back over and settled down next to Tera with a sigh. "I needed a drink, and about five minutes, if that's okay with everyone."

Sora nodded silently, and looked at the sky. "The stars indicate that we've been flying for about six hours. I estimate that we have three hours until sunrise."

Renna's eyebrows shot up at this information. "Wow, Sora. I didn't know you could tell time by the stars."

"Hm? Oh, yes. Master Valorie taught us. Didn't Yarrow teach you that?"

Renna shook her head and said, "Yarrow was always concerned with elemental lessons. Between Wither not knowing what his was for the longest time and me being a light dragon, he thought that was far more important than anything else."

Sora placed one paw over the other and looked Renna in the eyes. "Why does the fact that you are a light dragon make elemental lessons such a priority in Yarrow's eyes?"

Renna shrugged her shoulders and said, "I don't know. I guess he thought I was too dangerous. He was always impressing on me how destructive light dragons can be and incorporated elemental control into every lesson. I guess it didn't work well enough. You know. Remember the supernova incident? If Wither hadn't been there to absorb my fury I would have destroyed Warfang."

"That was a long time ago," said Sora. "Your lessons were not sufficient to teach you the responsibility necessary to understand both what you are capable of and how to control it. You've learned since then through experience, which is the real teacher for some things, and you are remarkably better than you were before. Still, it's a pity Yarrow never had the time to teach you more survival skills or any basic knowledge regarding anything other than your elemental powers. As important as the topic may have been for you and Wither, such a superficial education makes you vulnerable in nearly every other way. It is the job of the elders to teach us about everything it takes to be a self sufficient dragon. I fear Yarrow's anxiety might have clouded his judgment against your favor. Still, it is not my place to question him. But it is yours. I would suggest confronting him about this once things are back to normal."

Renna said nothing. For the remainder of their brief rest, her thoughts were full of the implications that Sora's insight had revealed. Renna had missed out on many important lessons that the rest of the dragons of her generation had been given. She found herself realizing that other than knowing where they needed to go, she knew nothing about the actual journey. She had nothing to contribute, no applicable knowledge, no useful skills. All she had were her superior elemental abilities, and the crystal that Wither had given her. Sora could tell time by the stars. Sora knew how to fish. Tera had figured out a solution to keep her camouflaged. What else did her friends know that she didn't?

Being the strongest member of the group was empowering. It gave her a sense of duty. She was there to protect them, and was indeed their best chance of survival if they got into a physical battle. But was power like that virtue enough to lead? Wasn't more required of a leader than a firm paw with which to enforce one's will? Surely it didn't come down to who held the biggest metaphorical stick. Renna knew she had much to think about. Still, she set aside these thoughts when she noticed that her friends were rising to their feet and stretching their limbs in preparation for more flight.

"We're not far from the desert now," Roxy said as he flexed his wings. "The plains between the woods and the Mira Desert were roughly the same distance as the distance between the southern edge of the woods and the western one. We should get there a little after sunrise if nothing interrupts our flight."

The swishing of the tall grass all around them intensified as the wind picked up, blowing eastward. At first, Renna frowned at their misfortune, because the headwind would slow their progress through the air, but then she caught the faint scent of decay. Everyone else shifted uneasily on their feet and turned westward, scanning the bobbing grass off into the distance. "Do you smell that?" said Tera. "Something's died out here."

"So these plains aren't completely uninhabited," said Roxy. "It's a fertile place. There's plenty of vegetation for wildlife and water to spare at the river, like we said earlier. No reason to believe we're alone out here."

The wind kicked up again. This time the smell was much more powerful than before. Renna was immediately tensed and crouched low. She felt her pupils widen and her nostrils flare. Her ears tuned in even more to the minute sounds of the night over the endless rushing of the river. Still, there was nothing that could be heard or seen but the field of grass dancing in the wind. Even so, the odor of death hung thickly in the air now, growing ever more and more powerful.

By now all of her friends were glancing about just as she was, posed and at the ready. No one had to point out how unnatural it was that the scent was becoming stronger, nor what that meant. Whatever the source was, it was getting closer. Based on the strength of it, it was close enough now that they ought to see it if not for the tall grass.

Sora slowly raised a paw and swept it through the air left to right. A particularly heavy southerly wind came out of nowhere and flattened the grass in front of them for fifty yards. There, not thirty paces in front of them was a host of horrific creatures. They were dead. And they were not dead. Their flesh was bloated in places and sagging in others. Where once there had been fur there now were clumps and tufts remaining. In some places, the skin had fallen away and open wounds lay perpetually open. Hideous sores bulged, others elsewhere wept with a disgusting ooze. Bits and pieces of extremities were missing and a few had lost one or both of their eyes.

There were half a dozen of them, some standing stock still as if in shock of their sudden revelation by the unexpected wind, others twitching and jerking uncontrollably. They looked to be wilds dogs at one point in time, but no longer. They were now clearly twisted by magic most foul, for no creature so far gone could continue to linger without the help of the arcane. The real question was how could something like this have happened all the way out here?

As far as they knew, there was nothing for miles around. The mountain that Malefor called home was at least a day's flight northward from their current location. And Zar's undead warriors came from much further north all the way up at Dante's Freezer. Arragor fought with apes and Obsidius with the grublins; these couldn't have come from them either. Then Renna had a thought. These creatures weren't just dead. They looked as though they had been ravaged by some sort of disease. Rather, it was as if they had succumbed to the vilest of pestilence.

Now Renna had an idea as to why Warfang had remained unchallenged from the west for all these months. Xath had been busy elsewhere. And it appeared as though Renna and the rest of her group had traveled into his new territories. It was the only explanation for what she saw before them now.

Renna slowly leaned toward Sora and said just loud enough for her to hear, "I don't think they can fly. If we take wing, we should be safe."

One of the creatures, the most distorted of the bunch, gave a jerk. It fixed its hollow-eyed gaze on Renna and gave a stumbling lurch in her direction. Though it was just a step, she nearly took flight, her senses so heightened that the world seemed to slow around her. The dog-thing opened its mouth and leered at her with a haunting, unnatural expression. It moved its jaws and a gurgling, rasping noise sounded. The foulness in the air intensified.

Renna covered her face and forewent subtlety, instructing her friends to do the same. But the smell was no horrific attack. Rather, the near formless half-thing was clearing its throat of a repulsive black discharge that it spat upon the ground. It raised its head to blindly regard Renna again. "We have been expecting you."

Renna widened her eyes in shock. Roxy was visibly sent reeling at the simple statement. Sora and Tera stood their ground. Renna actually ventured a step forward, fighting the nauseating stench that threatened to overwhelm her. "Waiting for us? But how can that be? When you had no way of knowing that we were coming."

All of the dog-ish lumps of flesh and bone shuddered and gurgled, their jaws clacking and remaining teeth gnashing. The one that spoke continued. "We were given instruction by our master to patrol these lands for you. He claimed that you had all given up the safety of the city in favor of a stroll through Avalar. We did not think that he spoke truly, for it is a foolish thing you have done, but here you stand before us."

Renna felt a fresh wave of fear wash over her. She shifted her weight to her right paw and felt the crystal brush against her chest. "And who, may I ask, is your master to know such things when we've left only a day ago?"

Once more, all of the horrors shuddered and gurgled. Only then did Renna realize that they were laughing. "Our master is the very same which has plagued your city these past moons, the Dark Master, Malefor, himself."

Renna wrinkled her snout at the rankling odor that seemed to envelope them completely. "Malefor created you? He has never employed creatures quite so vile before. What fresh abominations are you?"

Any remaining shuddering and gurgling among the beasts came to a sudden halt and they all simultaneously glanced down before looking back up. The lead dog-thing spoke again. "Our apologies. The differentiation of every node in the web is most difficult with all these strands connecting us."

Renna turned her head to view the creature with a side glance. "Don't try to confuse us with meaningless talk. Answer me clearly or the time for talk is past."

"Oh, there is much time for talk," said the dog-thing. "We've all the time in the world for talk. There's no need to cut things so short. We speak truly. We are all one, you see. These creatures you see before you. Those which lurk elsewhere in these vast lands, both near and far. And then there's the blessed Creator, who watches all from our heart. We are known as Lord Pestilence, but in an earlier life those we knew referred to us as—"

"Xath," said Renna. The ghastly being inclined its head briefly in recognition of the name its master used to go by.

"Still your tongue, Renna. That name is no longer who we are."

Renna was about to give a retort, but stopped when she saw Sora slowly step forward. Renna glanced at her and saw the unmistakable expression of disbelief and comprehension. She stepped past Renna and walked a few steps further before stopping and inspecting the horrid things with great scrutiny. Finally, in a hushed voice that was just barely over a whisper, she asked, "Xath? Is that really you in there?"

The dog-ish horror tossed its head and gave a snarl. "That is not our name! We are Pestilence now. You may preface it with Lord or General or not at all, but that name is no longer who we are." The creature settled down, taking several slow, wheezing breaths to calm itself.

Then it raised its head and held the pose for a moment before lowering its eyeless gaze to Sora once more. This time it spoke in a different voice. "But yes. It is I who speaks through these once wild coyotes. Very perceptive Sora. You always were such a clever dragoness. I have always admired that about you, you know. Perhaps, in my youth, I did not always show it properly, but I have grown since…"

Renna looked back at Sora and saw that she was trembling. She took a shaky breath. "That day. In the park."

The creature let out something akin to a whine before continuing. "I can never take back what I did to you, only apologize and move forward. I know what I was like, what I've been like. Psy broke something inside me that day, and I was unable to do anything about it. But Malefor has used his magic to fix it, and improved me a thousand times over after that. You should see me now. I reign supreme at the top of the tallest tower of the castle that looms over Concurrent Skies. I am as a king, more, a god to the people I have filled my kingdom with these past moons.

"And you want to know the best thing about my kingdom, Sora? No one is different. No one is misunderstood. No one is made fun of or looked down on because of what they are or are not. We are—"

"All one," the dog-ish, half-living thing said, finishing in its original voice. "You've no idea what it's like, this sense of community, of belonging, of connectedness, of universal and unconditional love. We have achieved utopia. And we would accept you all into our world. Fear not, the beings you see before you were not self aware. They were not deserving of the Paragon Strain that you would receive. They are more like pets and received only the Degenerate Strain as a result."

Sora backed away slowly until she was just behind and beside Renna. "We're fine as we are thanks," said Tera.

The zombified dogs turned as one, appearing to notice the other dragoness for the first time. "We don't recall asking. Often times people don't know what's best for themselves. But you will."

The creatures lurched forward only to dash directly into a solid wall of stone that erupted from the earth. "Let's get out of here," said Roxy.

They all took wing and left the snarling dogs lashing furiously at the air. As they soared up and westward a voice rapidly shrinking into the distance echoed up at them. "We are legion. We have eyes everywhere. There is nowhere you can go where we cannot see you."

For the next six hours they traveled as fast as they could. The flight was filled with a sense of unease and haste. Though none of them said anything, it was clear that neither of them were too keen on landing any time soon.

As the sun started to come up behind them, the world grew nearly imperceptibly brighter until more details of what lay below could be made out. The tall grasses of the plains thinned and the fertile soil steadily lightened in color as they flew on. The grass by the banks of the river never fully faded away, but the greenery of the landscape had all but vanished an hour after the soil of the plains had been utterly replaced by a sea of sandy dunes that stretched past the horizon.

The land wasn't the only thing to change. The very air felt desolate as well. It was dry and hot, and yet, somehow wonderful. As the sun rose ever higher in the sky the heat became ever more and more intoxicating. Several times Renna felt her eyelids dip as well as her wings and the rest of her body. She had to shake herself awake and widen her eyes as much as she could in an effort to keep them open. The fourth time she caught herself losing altitude she noticed that the others were having much the same trouble.

Finally, she performed several circling loops before descending to the earth below. When she landed, her paws touched down on the unfamiliar texture of the sand. It was mesmerizing how it melded to the shape of her paws and radiated a firm, unwavering heat. As the others landed next to her they, too, admired the feeling of the sand beneath their pads as they dug their claws in and flexed their toes.

"Wow, this place is amazing," said Roxy with a poorly concealed yawn. "I thought the Mira Desert was supposed to be brutal the way moles and cheetahs describe it."

"Their bodies aren't designed to cope with the heat," said Tera as she lay down and stretched out on the sand. "It's unbearable to them. But for dragons, the desert is a paradise. It's sunny all day every day and the sand holds in all the heat. It's the best place to sun yourself in all of Avalar."

"And as long as we stay close to the river," Sora said, "we shouldn't have to worry about food or water while we're here. That's what's most dangerous about the desert. There's almost no source of water or food if you go deeper in, and it takes two days to get through it. Two days without food is okay, but water is a necessity for life."

"So we'll stay close to the river," said Roxy as he flopped on his side next to Tera.

Renna watched as Sora's face lined with worry. "I'm not so certain it'll be that easy. If Xath is holed up in Concurrent Skies like he said, and those creatures were way out on the plains behind us, there's certain to be more of them along the way. Concurrent Skies lies close to the western most point in Avalar right up by the coast. The mainland tappers of into a narrow peninsula out there, but several dozen miles from the tip, where the peninsula is at its widest, the crystal fields of Concurrent Skies begin. It would take us three days to get there from here."

Renna looked over at the river in sudden understanding. "Oh, I see what you're saying."

"Yes," said Sora. "Two days west of here is where the crystal fields begin. That means there's nothing but desert between here and Concurrent Skies. So for those creatures to survive out here, many of them must stay close to the river. They may be twisted by dark magic, but I'm betting they still need water. Which means staying by the river all the way through the desert may be too dangerous. This segment of our journey may be tougher than you realize."

Roxy stared down at the sand. He appeared to be fighting sleep while trying to figure out a way around the conundrum. "So, we'll figure it out. For now, I say we take a nap. I'm falling asleep just lying here."

"We can't just fall asleep in the middle of the open," said Tera. "Some of those creatures might come by and see us. We're totally unprotected out here."

Sora cast her gaze about the dunes to the south and west. "That's something else I was afraid of. There's really no cover to speak of in the desert. This is about as good as it gets right here. The only thing I can think of to make the situation somewhat safer is to head south just a bit and camp out just over one of those dunes. At the very least we might be protected against watchful eyes passing by the river."

"All right. Let's do it," said Roxy as he sluggishly rose to a sitting position.

"First things first," said Renna. "I am not going another minute with all this dried muck on me. I feel awful. I'm washing it off in the river before we go."

Sora placed her paws together and looked Renna in the eyes. "I understand your discomfort, Renna, and I'm sorry you've had to fly around like that all night, but perhaps it would be wise to continue to carry on like that while we're in Xath's territory. You're easy to spot on the plains, but you're impossible to miss in the desert. If you wash your dirt off, anything within a mile of us will be able to see you if we fly or crest the dunes. Flying will be the quickest way out, but if we're forced to walk, I imagine weaving between the dunes has a bit of a disorienting effect. We could wind up going in circles. That would almost certainly get us killed.

"I'm sorry to say it, but I think it best for the group as a whole if you continue to wear that stuff. Though perhaps a trip to the river would be prudent. I think we could all use a drink and a meal. Plus, you actually need to apply more mud. Some of your scales are shining through in places where more of it has flaked off."

Renna made a mental effort not to protest rather loudly against Sora's advisements. For try as she might, Renna couldn't think of a solid reason why washing the dried mud off her body would be a good idea. She turned her back so Sora couldn't see her pouting and said, "Fine. Let's just go."

Half an hour later their bellies were full of river fish, their thirsts were quenched, and Renna was coated in even more cool, damp river mud. Though she had hated subjecting herself to being covered in the muck, she found that the chill of it sharpened her senses and broke her out of the soothing lull of the desert heat. Alert and revitalized, she could see clearly now that her friends were sluggish and unfocused. Roxy was looking around blankly with hooded eyes and a pleased expression on his face. Tera kept stretching her body out on the sand and dozing every chance she got. Even Sora, for all her survival skills, was yawning and nodding off regularly, only to jerk her head up once her chin touched her chest.

Renna cleared her throat and gained their attention. "This heat is making you all sleepy. I think the desert may be more our enemy than you imagined, Sora. If there's one thing I learned outside of elements in class, it's that dragons are always calmed by hot, arid climates. Granted, I learned it while reading the Book of Light, because light dragons can create weather like that, but that's neither here nor there. We won't be able to get much done during the day here. We need to take shelter now and try to get going once evening rolls around."

Sora hardly possessed the strength to argue at this point. She merely nodded sleepily and urged the others on with Renna's help. They grudgingly lifted their wings and took off to drift lazily over the nearest dunes and settled on the other side of the closest one. Renna agreed to take the first watch and the rest of the group was asleep in minutes.

At first, standing guard was easy for Renna. The mud coating her body protected her from the gentle caress of the heat radiating from the sand. However, not long after her friends were asleep the mud on her scales dried and the coolness it had provided was sucked out into the vast expanse of the desert air. The layer of dirt shielded her a bit more for a time, but eventually the desert claimed her and she drifted off without even realizing it.

The sun was low in the western sky by the time Renna was awoken by a sudden shaking. "Wake up. What are you doing? You were supposed to wake one of us to take your shift."

That was Roxy. Renna looked around and immediately her heart skipped a beat. "Wait, what? What time is it? Whoa, no way. I'm so sorry. I don't even remember falling asleep. The desert, it must have made me lose control of my senses, too."

"It's okay," said Sora quietly. "No harm was done this time, but in the future we need to be more careful. I fear it is as you said earlier, Renna. The heat of the day here will sap us of our energy. But at night the desert is just as cold as the day is hot. It will steel us. We must make as much progress as possible if we are to escape unscathed."

And so they set off. They flew a bit further south away from the river before flying west through the desert. They took their first break just as the sun's last light disappeared over the horizon. They flew back toward the river for another drink and to catch another much needed meal.

As they sat finishing the last of their catch Renna said, "So how much longer do you suppose it'll take to get through this desert?"

"We're not even half way through it yet," said Roxy. "We kind of just started, you know? We need to travel all night tonight and tomorrow night and then we'll be at the edge of the desert, assuming all goes well. Right Sora?"

Sora didn't answer. Renna looked up from the scraps of her meal as she discreetly spit out a few fish scales. "You all right Sora?"

Renna saw Sora looking past her. She turned around and looked to the east. There, about a hundred yards away were the six dog-things. They were running with a speed that seemed impossible for the healthiest of creatures let alone such decayed, broken things. They would be on them in seconds.

Renna stood as quick as she could and raised a paw. White hot light burst forth and enveloped the foremost creature. When the light vanished, there was a pathway of glass stretching between Renna and the dog-things. There were only five now, with no traces of the other.

Still, they did not appear daunted in any way. Sora twirled a claw in the air in front of her and a whirlwind formed, creating a twister of spiraling sand. The column surrounded the creatures and buffeted them with a barrage of disorienting debris. Roxy joined in using both of his paws to motion in the air much as Sora did. His movements corresponded with a great upheaval of sand that was dumped into the miniature tornado. As the air around the dog-things thickened, Tera sat and concentrated with her eyes closed, though nothing happened.

For several long seconds the tornado tore away at the dogs-things before three of them jumped free of the torrent of wind and sand. It was at this point that Tera finally appeared to finish with what she was doing and stood. "Don't look at me," she said as she opened her eyes. After seeing the elemental tricks of the dragons, the dog-things were prepared to dodge out of the way of this new assault. However, only one was quick enough to heed her warning to her friends and look away in time. The other two suddenly fell to the earth and moved no more.

The final dog-thing flinched violently and let out a terrified yelp as its two companions died and shrugged off whatever mysterious affliction ailed it. It rushed forward and made to slash at Sora. Just moments before it reached its mark Renna reared up and shouted, "Be gone!"

The dog-thing let out a howl and was suddenly enveloped in a writhing cloud of impenetrable darkness. When the cloud shrank away to nothing, the dog-thing was gone.

For a few fleeting moments, Renna's heart pounded with the residual fear of the unexpected assault. After a few seconds to come to terms with the fact that the danger had passed she ran to Sora. "Are you all right? It didn't touch you, did it? It got awfully close."

Sora shook her head wordlessly and stared at the ground between her paws. Renna pat her gently on the back and looked up at Roxy and Tera. "Nice teamwork guys. Especially you, Tera. What was that?"

Tera flicked her tail with a little extra flourish and raised her head. "Gorgon Gaze. Ever hear the phrase "if looks could kill?" Well, let's just say that to fear dragons dying of fright is a common concept. Though the technique is difficult, but I was top of my class. Plus, all those blue crystals we absorbed help."

Roxy was standing in place and looking all around as the others spoke and finally joined in the conversation. "Hey, I don't mean to be a downer or anything, but ever consider that there might be more of those things heading this way? I mean, think about it. They found us all the way out here without a trail and despite the fact that we flew. They would have had to run on foot from the time we ran from them back on the plains to now to get here. That means that they're pretty darn tireless, and they knew exactly where to find us. In case none of you can remember, they said that they have eyes everywhere. Not to mention the fact that they're all connected, so if we killed them here—"

"Others will be here soon," said Renna.

"Yeah," said Roxy. "I vote we leave. Now. And don't stop until we can't move our wings anymore."

In wordless agreement the four of them took to the skies and soared farther westward, trailing south to leave the river. After mere minutes in the air, a few black dots appeared on the horizon. There were some coming from the northwest, presumably following the river, which was now just out of sight. Others drifted into view more to the south. As they continued to fly, it became steadily more obvious that these dots were moving across the sands. It was impossible to say how many there were. The distance between them and the shimmering heat of the desert blurred them together and masked their true numbers. There could have been a couple dozen or possibly several hundred.

"It's them," said Roxy after a couple minutes of trying to discern what they were. "They're traveling through the desert, looking for us. We need to land or they'll see us for sure if they haven't already."

Everyone agreed and drifted down to the sands below to hide amidst the dunes. When they touched down the sand was still warm beneath their feet, but already it was beginning to cool. Night was only a couple hours away. As they stood between the dunes looking up and around a dry wind blew sand in their faces, forcing Renna to wince and cover her face with a wing. "What are we going to do? Everything looks the same down here. And did you see them up there? They're coming toward us from the north and southwest. They'll have us in a pincer with the hour if we're not careful."

"We have to move carefully," said Sora. "We can work our way through the dunes and climb them periodically to see what's around us. It'll be harder and progress will slow down considerably, but it's the only way to get through the area undetected."

"Even then it's not a sure thing," said Roxy.

Tera looked over at him and gave him a nudge. "We'll make it. Just don't lose your cool. People make way more mistakes when they're afraid."

Roxy looked as though he was going to say more, then nodded and started walking forward. The rest of them joined him. Renna jogged a few steps and took the fore, ready to head off any danger should they be surprised. The wide, sweeping canyons between the dunes towered above them like massive land whales. The heat of the sand ebbed away as the sun continued to dip toward the horizon. Down in the valleys it was already a strange, deeply shadowed twilight, though sunset was still over an hour away. Wind moaned between the dunes, picking up sand and tossing it into their faces or carrying it away to be rejoined with more sand. A couple of minutes into the trek Renna looked over her shoulder and saw that their footprints were erased by the ever shifting sands just a couple dozen yards from where they walked. Good. The easier to move undetected, she thought as they pressed forward.

After half an hour Roxy climbed one of the dunes and peeked over the top in an effort to get a look at their surroundings. He stayed low so as to remain unseen by any other watchful eyes. When he returned, sliding down the sandy slope, he gave his report. "I didn't see anything. Those figures we saw earlier are nowhere to be seen."

Everyone took a moment to digest this unsettling information. "They've moved into the dunes," said Sora. "They're using them to hide just as we are. We'll not notice them until they're right on top of us."

"What do we do?" said Tera.

Sora sat in silence for a full minute. Renna looked around where the slopes of the dunes curved away, blocking their line of sight. The shadows were deeper than before now. And the wind kicked up more sand now and again, giving the faint impression of movement. "We can't stay here," she said. She looked at them all in turn. "We have to keep moving. If we stop we're done for."

As she said this a small trickle of sand cascaded down the slope of the dune next to them. All of them looked up, but there was nothing. Silently, they ran through the canyon. The sand muffled their footfalls, but also served to hinder their passage. All that could be heard was the gentle disturbance of the sand beneath their feet and the moaning of the wind between the dunes. The air suddenly grew cold. The desert was losing its heat at a more rapid pace now and Renna could feel a chill working its way down her spine.

A flicker of movement. Her head snapped to the top of the dune that bisected the end of the canyon. All that could be seen was another miniature avalanche of sand. She stopped. She felt her friends halt behind her. The wind died down for a brief moment. Renna could hear her heart beating in her ears. In little more than a hushed whisper barely loud enough for herself to hear she said, "They're here."

Howling figures surged over the crests of the dunes and down the slopes on all sides. They were completely surrounded. The wind kicked up again. It now carried with it the foul taint of the creatures' presence. They came in all shapes and sizes, gamboling, sliding, and lunging their way toward their quarry. Some were like the dog-things from the plains. Others were more serpentine. Others bore wings and the remnants of once proud, beautiful plumage, which now was worn away in patches along with goodly portions of flesh and bone.

There were at least a couple dozen of them this time. As they approached they let out chattering squeals and grunts of excitement. When the closest was thirty feet away, Renna blasted it with another all consuming beam of light. The dune was instantly scored with a trail of molten glass, and several other creatures which had been unfortunate enough to be in close proximity to her target were set ablaze.

Their howls never turned to cries of agony, however. They still lumbered onward, seemingly unaware of their burning flesh. Renna continued to give off bursts of devastating light energy, utterly vaporizing her foes one by one by means of photonic immolation. It amazed her how easy it was to completely destroy them. Each time she dipped into her magic and willed white hot beams of blinding light into existence, another life was extinguished, leaving nothing but faint, elongated shadows of their forms scorched into the sands of the dunes before they, too, were swept away by the wind.

Behind her, she vaguely registered sounds of her friends slaying more of the monstrosities together. She was swallowed up by her task, firing beam after beam of light until the creatures on her side were no more. Thirteen times she used her magic, and thirteen of the creatures met their end. And all she had to do was stand in place with her paw outstretched. When the last of them was gone she stared down at her paw. She realized that she was shaking.

"Renna! We need your help." That was Tera.

Renna whirled around and saw that her three companions were attempting to fight off far more of the creatures than had appeared on Renna's side. At least as many as she had killed already lay dead and twice as many remained. Renna swallowed the lump in her throat and moved past Sora, who was using her wings to kick up a small sandstorm. She passed Roxy and Tera, moving the fear dragoness out of the way to stand before the teeming field of creatures. There were far too many. She would have to use the crystal.

As she moved her paw toward her chest another shrieking howl filled the canyon. All of the half dead abominations faltered for a brief moment. The call had not been from one of their own. Then a figure soared low over one of the dunes and swept over the battlefield. A ripple of explosions bloomed in its wake, sowing confusion and despair among the horde of vicious animals. The figure did a u-turn and doubled back for another pass. More firebombs detonated below it as it passed the battlefield.

By now Renna could see that the mysterious attacker was a youngling fire dragon. He cleared the segment of the canyon that was filled with furious, writhing bodies and touched down to charge into the fray. Some of the creatures turned their focus to this new threat and were quickly dealt with by fiery blasts that erupted from his maw. He let out a whoop of glee and tumbled through the battlefield, setting himself on fire and biting the end of his tail like an ouroboros before rolling through the ranks of wretched enemies.

With his upset to confuse their foes, the tide of the battle was turned and Renna, Tera, Sora, and Roxy fought their way through the creatures, using magic to kill them all, as they were too dangerous to touch. Within minutes the last creature was lit ablaze by the mystery assailant and fell bubbling and twitching to the sands, its smoldering remains lighting the canyon with oily, flickering flames.

The fire dragon walked toward the group and stopped just a few feet away from them. He looked them all up and down as though he were more surprised to see them than the hideous monsters he had just helped them kill. Then he gave them a lopsided, toothy grin and snickered. He shoved his paw forward in an awkward gesture and cheerily greeted them. "My people! That was awesome! You guys rock. What up? The name's Quincy."


	4. Chapter 4-Culture Clash

Chapter 4-Culture Clash

In the dying light of the blood red sun, Wylee walked northeast with his friends through the woods that lay to the north of Warfang. Vera had commented on how beautiful Wither's honor name was and Psy had queried what it meant, which kicked off Wither's explanation of how Yarrow came up with the idea. "He felt it would serve to offset the admittedly less tasteful implications of my common name, which my parents only gave me due to the old tradition of giving younglings sinister sounding names to incite fear in our enemies," he had said before Wylee stopped paying attention to the dragons' light hearted banter and allowed his thoughts to turn inward.

The last few hours of his stay in Warfang kept repeating over and over in his head. There were many emotionally charged moments littered with farewells that everyone knew could easily be final parting words. But the thing that troubled Wylee was not the conversation he had with his father, nor waving goodbye to the rest of the village he had grown up with.

After leaving the barracks Wylee walked across the lawn with Hunter. They were going to take a walk through the city together and take in the last few hours together appreciating the beauty of it. When they were about halfway to the gate that led to the street a voice halted the both of them. "Wylee, wait. Can I talk to you for a moment?"

Wylee turned and watched Brook step out of the side yard and stop by the door to the barracks. He looked at his father who placed his hand between his shoulder blades and gave him a shove. "Go on, then," Hunter said. "I can't expect to have someone as important as the Upsilon all to myself when you're about to make yourself scarce. Even if you're my son."

Wylee gave his father a grin and pushed him back gently before trotting back to where Brook stood patiently by the door. When she climbed up on the step and pushed the door open Hunter called out with both hands cupped around his mouth, "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

Wylee did his best to ignore the old man's jest and laughed quietly to himself when Brook sucked her lips in and shook her head. Wylee walked back through the doorway and into the sleeping quarters, looking at the four rows of cots that stretched to the back wall. When he heard the door swing shut behind him he turned to ask Brook what she wanted and was immediately nearly thrown backwards.

Brook rushed forward and threw her arms around him, nearly sending them both sprawling on the floor. He stood in place while she held him for a moment, suddenly unsure how to respond. He smelled the meadow and the river in her fur, felt the warmth and the pleasing tightness of her embrace, heard the rise and fall of her breath by his neck.

It was not the first time she had embraced him in such a manner. Indeed, she had done so many times. Each had been fleeting and in privacy before she hurriedly and rather violently shoved him away. On the rare occasions when he attempted to call her out in company she would beat him unmercifully until she was certain he would be silent about the matter. She was terribly shy. That was what Wylee had decided long ago. So shy, that she never spoke even to him about these moments or their implications.

Theirs was a fierce friendship, tempered by stronger feelings that Wylee could always sense just under the surface whenever they spoke, whenever they laughed, whenever they quarreled, always unanalyzed, only ever half acknowledged, hidden away at the very backs of their minds. It was always there. Wylee could not remember a time when it was not.

But this time was different. Though these thoughts took only seconds for Wylee to process, Brook was still holding him by the time he came to terms with what was happening. Quietly, gingerly, he reached up and placed his hands on Brook's back and pulled her in tighter. He took a deep breath, taking her scent in and reveling in the euphoric sensations that wriggled through his head and stomach. The logical, reasoning part of his brain recognized that this feeling was most likely a hormonal reaction to the undoubtedly heavy dose of pheromones he had just inhaled, and nature was just doing its job. But a deeper, more primal part of his mind promptly told this part of his brain to shut up because it didn't really care.

She held him and he held her and in that time nothing else mattered. Not the village they had abandoned, not the months of living grouped together in a single building, not the day after day battle that was overseen on the wall. Everything else fell away around them.

After an indeterminate amount of time, Brook loosened her grip, but did not let go and looked up at Wylee. "Be safe out there."

Wylee nodded once and said, "Of course."

"So you can come back to us."

"I will."

Then Brook leaned up on tiptoe and kissed him. It was a quick kiss, much like the many embraces that had preceded this one. Her lips had hardly met his before they were gone again, and she had turned away, walking quickly back to the door and leaving him with an ache that spread outward from his chest. She opened the door for a couple seconds and allowed it to close behind her, and then she was gone.

It was then that another part of Wylee's brain flickered on with a sickening realization. He loved her. She meant the world to him, and more than anything he wanted to rush outside and catch up with her so he could pluck her off her feet and envelop her with his love. He wanted to carry her back inside and continue to hold her and kiss her and talk with her. He wanted to take her by the hand and walk through the park with her and reminisce with her all the memories they had made together. He wanted to take her to the library and show her all of the things that fascinated him there. He wanted to go with her to the makeshift garden by the showers and learn all the ways of the healer just to hear her voice. He loved her. And she loved him. Of that, he was fairly certain.

And he was a hybrid.

The realization fell over him like a veil of dread. His stomach soured, he found it difficult to breathe, the room spun around him, his unseeing eyes smearing the door with the ceiling and the walls with the floor as tears welled in his eyes. For all of the dearest, sweetest, rawest flutterings and waves that squirmed and crashed about in Wylee's head, stomach, chest, and now his legs for Brook, he knew that she was unobtainable.

He could not bring himself to attempt to have a life with her. For his was tainted blood. To do so would be to despoil her as well. That was a fate that he would not wish on even the most disdainful cheetah. Oh, but to think of her and how she would most certainly be more than willing to be with him. Ah, it was torture! To know that the only right way to love her was from afar. And even then, he was not worthy. He was a hybrid, garbage.

Even as he considered this his desires collaborated with his sly nature, forming schemes around the interspecies taboo. He appeared as nothing more than a mere cheetah. No one would have to know… But this thought was immediately interceded by a self administered mental thrashing for even considering such a betrayal. Besides, if ever there were a child, and Brook would much desire children, for she so loved the children of the village, there was no telling what might happen. It would be a tremendous gamble each time. The genes for characteristics that lay latent in his blood could resurge. What a disgraceful shock that would be. A scandal that would be remembered for generations. Wylee and his father would be cast away forever, as would Brook, who would no doubt hate him forever. The supposed child would most likely be exposed to the wilderness, doomed to die alone in the elements.

All these thoughts waged an epic war inside Wylee, fighting for supremacy. But as soon as his reason had his emotions pinned down, his resolve wavered and his desire for the life he dreamed of slipped free, before rationality knocked it back down to wrestle it into place again. And so the cycle continued.

As the faint glow that seeped through the canopy dimmed ever more, a voice interrupted Wylee's troubled thoughts. "Wylee, what's wrong? You haven't said a word since we left the city."

It took Wylee a couple seconds to realize that it was Elleca who had spoken. He looked up from the tree root he was stepping over and saw all of his companions watching him. The look on Elleca's face indicated that she knew full well that something was bothering him.

"Come on, I've gotten to know you well enough by now to know something's up. You might as well talk about it since it's got you so preoccupied. Is it the journey?"

Wylee let out a sigh. He did not wish to trouble his friends with his exceptionally cheetah concerns. The interspecies taboo was not something that dragons worried about. First of all, there was no other species that was capable of cross breeding with dragons. Secondly, the taboo was a culturally imposed one, something that the dragons would not, possibly could not understand.

"It's not that," Wylee said after a while. He paused and after seeing the resolution in Elleca's blank stare before continuing, albeit somewhat reluctantly. He explained the situation in as fine detail as he could, starting at the proper place, with an in depth description of the interspecies taboo and what it meant to his people, followed by what had occurred with Brook. His explanation was longwinded to say the least, and though he scarcely realized it, it went totally uninterrupted. His friends just walked and listened as he poured his heart out to them in a surprisingly violent and passionate purge that left his face tear stained and the raging storm in his mind somehow subdued. When he was done he took a deep breath and let it out slowly to calm his racing heart and waited for a response.

He was immediately met with the expected; all of his friends gave him their sincerest apologies and condolences for his regrettable situation. Then, once the social niceties were out of the way, the conversation took a turn. Elleca extended her wings and said, "Seriously, that's just terrible. And for what? Your mom wasn't a cheetah? So what? Why does it matter?"

"I told you, it is forbidden," replied Wylee.

"Yeah, but why is it forbidden?"

"Do you not recall what I said at all, Elleca?"

Elleca waved her paw at Wylee, dismissing his comment. "No, no. I remember. You said the mix taints the blood. But why? Why is your blood tainted? What does that mean?"

Wylee squared his shoulders in preparation for his response. "Typical. I should have guessed that you wouldn't understand. This is an issue of immense proportions to my people."

"I'm not saying it isn't," said Elleca. "Don't get all huffy with me. I'm not trying to offend you or anything. I'm genuinely curious here. You're right, I don't understand. So enlighten me would you? Come on, Wylee. You're a smart guy. Just work it out for me like you work things out for yourself. Lead me to a logical conclusion with sound reasoning.

"Statement one: A cheetah cross breeding with someone belonging to another species is strictly forbidden." Elleca was now impersonating Wylee's famous method of coming to a logical solution to any quandary with an unbroken line of reasoning. He always used it to come to a purely scientific conclusion free of bias or faulty rationality.

"Statement two: Said action explicit in statement one is forbidden because it taints the blood of the resultant offspring." Now Elleca dropped the impression and looked at Wylee. "Go ahead and finish that for me, just so I can understand this whole 'tainted blood' thing as well as you do."

Now Wylee stumbled over his own words for a moment, too eager to snap to with a response to form one in time. After a few clumsy attempts at uttering anything intelligible he said, "It just is, okay?"

Now Elleca's head reeled back at the remark. Even the rest of the dragons looked at Wylee. "That was weak," their faces all seemed to say. He could see it in their eyes. Even he had to admit it. Where was his logic? It had failed him when he needed it to defend his point. That hadn't happened since he was no higher than his father's waist.

"Look at you," said Elleca. "Not even you believe that load. Try again. And this time, actually think about it."

Psy fell into step beside Wylee and said, "I think we're all in agreement with Elleca. We just don't understand the line of reasoning on this issue. And I don't want to offend you, because you're my friend, Wylee, but I don't think you really understand either."

Wylee looked down at Psy to give him a dirty look, but Psy had turned to gaze down the path they walked. "I think the question Elleca wants you to answer is something you aren't ready to grapple with yet. Your immediate, automatic response reminds me of how I react to things when I'm angry. And when we're angry, our judgment is clouded. So ask yourself this instead. Why are you angry? Why are you so quick to jump to the defense when asked to explain the issue further, even though such behavior contradicts your typical personality? When you've answered these questions, then you may move on to the one Elleca poses.

"Until then, let me ask you another question. Can you at least see that where that line of reasoning currently halts is left hanging? Once again begging yet another question? Or do you believe in your heart that all is laid out in perfect detail, leaving nothing to the imagination?"

Wylee did not have to think about it this time. He already knew that answer. "No. I just don't know where it goes from there, logically speaking, that is."

"Okay, good," said Psy. "Progress in my opinion, and in yours as well, I imagine. We've established that you don't logically understand why your blood is considered tainted by your people due to your mixed ancestry. Now, why have you always held this belief if you've never truly understood it? That's not like you, is it?"

"No," said Wylee slowly, considering the shadow dragon's words. "It's just…I don't know. I've always been told by everyone growing up that it's wrong."

There was silence for a time, then Wither spoke up from the fore of the group. "Studies among our people and the moles have proven that minds are malleable. Especially young minds. We learn so much about our world in our formative years. That's why they call them the formative years. They form who we are. Think about it. We are born into this world knowing nothing and expecting nothing. We have no language, no customs, no manners, no skills, no beliefs…" Wither allowed this last concept to hang in the air for a while before continuing.

"All of these things are learned. Many of which we have a firm grasp of after just a few short years. But we would know none of it if not for those we learned it from. We are so innocent in our youth, taking everything we hear and see for granted, taking in everything on good faith that we are being guided for the better. There is so much we learn that is proven true and useful that we do not learn to differentiate between these things and those that are not.

"And let's be honest with ourselves. People are imperfect. We learn things that we should not sometimes, and then as a result we teach things that we should not. These things get passed down for generations, changing a little with each telling until hundreds, sometimes even thousands of years separate us from the origin of such things, and all their original meaning or intent have long been forgotten.

"Perhaps thousands of years ago, there was a good reason why a cheetah shouldn't have young with someone of a different species. Or maybe this belief is a variant of some other truth that has been distorted by the passage of time. No one alive today can say for sure. However, what we can say is this. You are a hybrid, Wylee. And you are one of the most fantastic people I've ever met. Your intelligence is on par with that of the moles. Your prowess in combat is paralleled by Elleca's. You're innovative to the point of creative genius. And you're an icon to your people, an Upsilon, the elite of the elite.

"It seems to me that being of mixed blood has granted you some extraordinary advantages. The opportunity for new blood to run through your veins has made you stronger, dare I say, better. Calling you an abomination is an insult and a dishonor of the highest caliber, in this dragon's humble opinion."

Wylee dipped his head, unsure of what to say or think. His friends may not possess the way of thinking that any cheetah would, but perhaps that's what he needed. A fresh perspective on the outside looking in offered a different angle. Their insight was obviously piercing, for they all saw something that he did not. It amazed Wylee how even though this group of youngling dragons, who were all about three years younger than him, were so incredibly wise. A smile tweaked the corners of his mouth. That was dragons for you; they had a reputation among the other races for being wise beyond their years.

After a moment of consideration his thoughts were interrupted by Elleca yet again. "So Wylee, what exactly is your mother then? Since she's not a cheetah?"

Wylee stopped walking, forcing everyone else to stop as well. "What is it?" said Wither glancing around. "Do you sense something?"

"No," said Wylee as he slid a hand slowly down his face. "Ah, I'm such an idiot. I can't believe it. I never even asked my father what race my mother belonged to. I have no idea what she is."

"You're kidding?" said Vera. She had remained especially silent through the night, apparently lost in thoughts of her own, but now she looked at Wylee with an openly incredulous expression. "It never occurred to you to ask about half your ancestry? Aren't you the least bit curious? I mean, I know cheetahs don't care about their ancestry as much as we dragons do, but I have a hard time believing it slipped your mind to figure out what species your mother is."

Wylee let his hand drop to his side and continued walking again. "Curiosity about her species was a rather low priority for me once I discovered that she wasn't a cheetah. That's kind of really all that mattered for a while, but now that I'm intent to find her one day, it's a rather important detail. If either my father or I die in battle before I get another chance to ask him, the knowledge will be lost. I just can't believe I forgot to ask. I'm usually all over the little details like that."

"Perhaps," said Wither in a questing tone, "cultural concerns override our innate personalities at times. They shape us about as much as anything."

"I'm sure you're right," said Wylee, though he was loath to admit it.

"Don't worry, Wy," said Psy. "You'll find your mom one day. I believe in you. I've seen some of the things you can do when you put your mind to it."

"Thank you, Psy."

They continued through the woods for the rest of the night, stopping occasionally at nearby streams for water. At one point, they passed some plants full of royal purple blossoms and berries. As they walked by, Elleca reached out to pull one of the berries from the branches. She had the berry halfway to her mouth before Wylee reached down and plucked the berry from her claws and threw it nonchalantly over his shoulder.

"Hey, what was that for, fuzz butt?"

Ignoring the nickname Elleca had bestowed upon Wylee for such occasions he kept walking without a glance in Elleca's direction. "I suppose I could have let you eat it, scale face. Dragons are awfully resistant to toxins of any kind, but even you would not appreciate the agony of a post nightshade snacking, I think."

Elleca blinked and looked to the right of the path they were making for themselves where the deadly nightshade grew in sizable clumps. The berries looked awfully tasty, rather like blueberries, but one did not tend to do well to question Wylee. If he said the berries were poison, then they were something to avoid, to be sure. "Thanks," she said slowly. "Volteer didn't have time to get around to some of our survival lessons before the war started. He felt that reading up on history and lore was way more important than pretty much anything."

"Don't worry, Elleca," said Wither. "Yarrow spent time on nothing but elemental lessons for the entirety of our instruction with him. I know little more about wilderness survival than what I read on my own time when I was younger. Though, some of the memories escape me. It's a good thing we have Wylee with us to tell us how to handle life outdoors for a prolonged period of time."

"Hey, I know some stuff, too," said Psy. "Noh wanted us to know how to tell our directions at night, so he taught us how to determine your compass points and the time by the stars. He also told us what kavok looked like so we wouldn't eat any. He said it has a rather delightful numbing tingle on the tongue, but stings like the dickens all the way down your throat. It doesn't hurt in your stomach, but once it starts moving through your intestines, it apparently feels all bloated and stabby. Noh likened it to swallowing a whole pineapple rolled in maple sap and broken glass and it's passing through spiky end first. He spoke about it at length and with colorful detail. I think he might have been drawing on personal experience."

Wither and Elleca laughed at Psy's story, but Wylee shook his head. "That's really quite amazing how you can actually eat the stuff at all, though. For a cheetah or any other race to so much as touch the stuff, it burns like red hot coals pressed firmly against the area for four days. Anything more than a mere touch is certainly lethal."

"That's crazy," said Vera. "Hexus talked about kavok in our class, too. But he said eating it made for a great way to keep the neurotoxin glands under our scales full and especially potent."

Wylee nearly tripped over a root as his attention was suddenly drawn to Vera. As he righted himself with a less than graceful hop he said, "I didn't know poison dragons had neurotoxin glands under their skin. That's fascinating. And you say eating kavok keeps the glands full and potent? What a positively marvelous adaptation. So you could say that your body uses a series of processes to break down the kavok toxin and absorb it into your body for personal use as a defense mechanism. Not really magic at all when you put it like that. It's more of just a network of connections that lead to an amazing outcome that has always been difficult for other races to explain or understand.

"Perhaps then a poison dragon is not an element, per se, but an evolutionary offshoot, more of a subspecies of dragon. Maybe the same can be said of all dragons displaying different 'elements' as well."

Wylee noticed after rambling for a bit that the rest of his friends were glancing at him uneasily. They did not appear to appreciate his interpretation of their elemental powers. Wylee cleared his throat and backpedaled for some damage control. "Not to offend any of you, of course. It's just, I've always thought that calling something magic was a bit of a cop out. When you see something that looks like a miracle and don't know how it happened, it's easy to just shrug your shoulders and say 'magic.' I just don't believe in miracles. I believe everything that happens does so for a logical reason that can be explained by science."

"Yeah, we've heard the spiel," said Elleca.

"Kind of odd," said Vera with a sniff. She seemed especially upset by Wylee's explanation of her element. "A cheetah who doesn't believe in magic when it's used around him every day, but he believes a mix of races taints his blood, though there's no evidence to point to that whatsoever."

Wylee stiffened and said no more. Clearly, his ideas on such matters were not welcome among dragons. But Elleca hastened a bit to fall in stride next to Vera so she could nudge her firmly though not unkindly in the ribs. "Hey, cut him a break. He said he wasn't trying to offend. Maybe we should all try a little bit harder to overlook these dumb cultural boundaries and realize that we're just different, but that doesn't mean we're wrong. Okay?"

Vera looked sideways at Elleca before letting out a long sigh. "All right. I'm sorry. I'm just agitated is all. It may not hurt anymore, but being this far away from Tera doesn't feel very good, you know? I'm kind of running on half a soul over here."

"I don't think any of us can know what that's like," said Wylee, carefully easing back into the conversation. "Sorry about earlier. I didn't know your elements are such a touchy subject. Friends?"

"Of course," said Vera, even if she was a bit lackluster about it.

"I'll just keep my thoughts on that particular matter to myself from now on. I sincerely don't understand why I angered you with my interpretation of your elements. Care to enlighten me? It's one thing to be sorry, but another to understand why."

The dragons looked back and forth at one another with ever shifting eyes as though they were sending secret messages to one another. Wylee knew that they couldn't because they were no longer within the city and under Yarrow's spell that wove their minds together, but he couldn't shake the feeling that they were trying to decide whether they should share some secret with him. He waited to see what they would do.

In the end, it was Wither who cleared his throat. "Well, I'm not like other dragons, so I have no problems talking about it."

Wylee noticed that the rest of his friends looked both nervous and relieved that Wither had made the decision for them. He focused his attention on the grey dragon at the fore of the group and quickened his stride, feet soaring over gnarled tree roots that would most certainly trip up one less nimble. When he was next to Wither, the dragon continued.

"After all, I have no elemental spark, so I have no real reason to get offended now, do I?"

Wylee cocked his head and looked down at Wither. "What do you mean?"

Wither pressed through a patch of ferns and stepped over an especially healthy tree root before speaking. "There are several reasons why we dragons don't talk about magic or how it works around other races."

Wylee felt a shiver and pulled his cloak tighter around him.

"First of all, it's important to remember that every single dragon except for me pulls their power from some unknown source within themselves. I can't speak at any great length about what that mysterious power source is like, seeing as I don't have one. For that, you would have to be lucky enough to make friends with another dragon willing to share that with you.

"However, I can tell you that this source of power is what we refer to as our elemental spark. As a dragon grows older their spark gets bigger, and we are able to generate and hold in more energy, or mana, to fuel our elemental abilities. When a dragon's spark is depleted of its mana, they are incapable of using their elemental powers until it regenerates or they find a green mana crystal left behind by the ancestors."

At this Wylee interrupted. "I've heard this before. How are the crystals all over Avalar left behind by your ancestors? They just appear to grow right out of the ground."

Wither dipped his head as he continued his explanation. "When a dragon dies, their spirit becomes one with the world. It is only their bodies that truly leave us. The elemental sparks become more pure as they emerge from the flesh of the bodies they inhabited and plunge themselves into the earth. Then, rather than regenerating mana for their bodies, the elemental sparks of our ancestors pump the mana they produce into the soil around them. It crystallizes and grows into external mana batteries for living dragons."

Wylee stared at a lone green crystal several feet off the path they followed. "So a dragon died over there?"

"The location of the body when it fails is inconsequential. The spark goes where it is needed most, spreading the mana evenly across Avalar so that dragons may benefit from their power wherever they might go."

"That's incredible," said Wylee. "I had no idea."

"That's not your fault," said Wither, avoiding a low branch. "Dragons won't talk about this stuff to other races. I don't care because my powers aren't derived from a spark."

"I have so many questions now," said Wylee, his heart and mind racing. "Why don't you have this spark? Why won't dragons talk about theirs? What about the other types of crystals? There are four of them that occur naturally."

Wither sighed and gave Wylee a thin lipped smile. "Your first question is either the hardest or the easiest. I don't know why I'm different. I'm the only dragon who's never had a spark. So if you ever find that out, be sure to let me know.

"As for the other crystal types, you got me. Blue crystals are rare and highly coveted. It is believed that they arise only from the most ancient of sparks that have been lying in the earth for many thousands of years. They actually grow and strengthen a spark rather than replenishing it, as though they are capable of aging the spark inside a dragon instantaneously without aging the body of the dragon who uses one.

"Purple fury crystals are also rare, but explaining them is a bit easier. Our best guess is that both purple fury crystals and red healing crystals are born from the sparks of dragons who died prematurely."

"They were killed," said Wylee.

"Some of them," said Wither. "The purple ones, yes. They belong to dragons whose lives were ended by some battle or betrayal. Their outrage at their shortened life corrupts the mana in their spark, causing it to crystallize into pure dragon fury. If another dragon absorbs this, they are able to use it as though it were their own, unleashing an elemental fury attack, which is the most devastating of our abilities."

"I fear your answers branch my questions off ever further," said Wylee.

Wither sighed again and said, "Let's finish up this topic first, mister impatient. The red crystals come from sparks of dragons who died of illness or some other accidental injury. It is believed that their desire to either be healed or to make certain others do not share their fate twist the mana their spark produces and turns it into something that can mend dragon flesh. It is unknown precisely how they can do this, but the fact that they can has always been evident."

"Remarkable," said Wylee. This was more information than he had hoped for. The fact that they had digressed from their initial conversation did not elude him, but he wished to press forward, gleaning as much from Wither as he could. This might well be his only chance to learn so much about dragon magic. "So, how do your fury abilities work then? I know you can use them even when your spark, as you call it, is drained of mana. How is that possible?"

"No one knows," said Wither, shrugging his shoulders.

Wylee's shoulders, in turn, drooped. "Oh. Really?"

"Really," said Wither. "That's always been a mystery. Where the energy comes from, no one can say. It comes from the spark, I mean, but no one knows how dragons are able to just automatically produce that much energy all at once just because we need it. It makes one wonder, if we can find a way to tap into some sort of hidden potential deep within us, what then, would we be capable of?"

"That really is quite amazing," said Wylee. He considered the possibilities for a moment before remembering why the conversation started in the first place. "Anyway, why are dragons unwilling to talk of their sparks to other races?"

Wither looked back at the rest of his friends, Wylee following his eyes. They met their gazes before looking down at the ground. Wither cleared his throat again and said, "You won't be getting this from any of them, I guarantee you. The only reason why they're even willing to allow me to talk about it is because I am one of them. But some of the things I am about to tell you, we are not supposed to share with other races. So don't take this for granted."

"I don't," said Wylee and he was still, eager to hear more.

Wither sized him up before taking a deep breath and launching into a lecture. "I've received no formal education on the matter, but after learning from Renna's mother once that our people are secretive about magic to the other races, I did some digging in the library in my spare time while away from the wall. What Glacianne and the books have told me is this."

Wither explained the Magic Wars that raged between the dragons and the moles several thousand years ago. Wylee listened with growing horror and understanding. When Wither explained the pact that the dragons made with the moles that resulted in Warfang being built over top of Mjölnir, Wylee felt sudden as though he were thrown into an ancient conspiracy that had silently commenced for thousands of years. All the pieces of why dragon culture was the way it was began fitting into place.

Then Wither got to the part about the dragons slaughtering other races. The apes, and even his own people. All because they learned how to harness the power of 'magic.' That cinched it.

"So dragons don't talk about magic with other races because…what? They're afraid of magic being used against them? No, it's not just that. You're afraid that the sense of mysticism surrounding your people would be lost. What makes dragons so big and scary and awesome and powerful when everyone has magic and understands how it works?"

"Wylee—"

"I don't blame any of you for what your ancestors did to mine, that's in the past now. But what I don't understand is how you can live with yourselves keeping everyone in the dark about it. About all of it! You're only perpetuating the problem by trying to keep everyone else beneath you and covering up what your people did. Convenient, that your kind live so long and all the other races forget with the passing millennia, so when it's all said and done no one can remember except for you. You're not offended because you're proud; you act like it because you're afraid. How dare you?"

"You want to fight about it?" asked Elleca.

Wylee turned around, surprised by her voice. It was the first time any of the others said anything since Wither started telling him about their history. Now Elleca was looking directly at Wylee. It wasn't anger in her eyes. She didn't even appear upset. There was more of a cautionary look to them.

"Because that's where your words are taking you," said Elleca. "Remember why we didn't want to talk to you about it? This is why. And incidentally, you're wrong. You haven't let Wither finish yet. You interrupted him to go on that little rant, genius."

Wylee swallowed the lump in his throat and turned back to Wither. The grey dragon took another deep breath, but this time he just let it out slowly, looking at Wylee as he did so. The message was clear, he needed to calm down and hear the rest of the facts before he weighed them. Once he was quiet for some time, Wither continued.

"You are right, to some extent. But you are also wrong. We are afraid. Not us, specifically. Our people as a whole. The Magic Wars were devastating to everyone. We are ashamed of them and would have them forgotten, for we would not see them repeated. However, we are proud, as well. Do you recall the tales regarding the dragon gods?"

"Volteer spoke of them, yes."

"Well, it is not so commonplace anymore, but some dragons still believe in the dragon gods. In order of ascending divinity they are K-Stl, L-Kin, J-Zrd, and N-Vor. K-Stl is believed to have created the fire, ice, electric, and earth dragons. The common and admittedly weakest elements." Wither turned around and said to Elleca, "You're still amazing, though."

Elleca beamed at him with an expression of joy before he turned around and continued. "L-Kin is the origin of wind, fear, poison, and shadow dragons. The uncommon elements, stronger than the common elements. J-Zrd is the one who created the light, life, time, and purple dragons. The rare elements, strongest of them all.

"N-Vor was never said to have created any dragons, but the voice of who we believe to be Celest, a presumably still living time dragon, once told me that I was a son of N-Vor. And she and Malefor have referred to me as 'hallow heart, hallowed one, promised one' and other such titles. This would seem to imply that N-Vor never directly created dragons of his own, but rather set the creation of my kind in motion through the forming of a prophecy. That seems most likely to me, anyway.

"So yes, we are a proud people when it comes to our sparks. They are believed by some to be a representation of the love of those who gave us life in the first place."

Wylee nodded then. The dragons' reasons for silence on the matter were manifold. The situation was embarrassing for them more than anything. It would be best not to think of them as fearful warmongers who strove for dominance and control through an enforced ignorance of those around them. Wylee took a breath, thought for a moment then slowly asked, "So then, why did Vera get offended by what I said?"

Wither shrugged his shoulders and blew out his cheeks with a heavy breath. "I don't know, ask her."

Wylee turned around and eyed Vera who simply raised her head and said, "You don't know anything about our bodies or how they work. You just make guesses without knowing for sure. If you had of asked, I would have told you that, yes, we poison dragons have physical attributes that other dragons don't, but they are simply conduits that allow us to channel our magic. Even if a poison dragon runs out of physical toxin, we can still stock up immediately at a mana crystal. If that's not magical, I don't know what is."

Wylee stifled a wild theory about energy-to-matter conversion and instead asked a question. "So you're not actually insulted by my attempts at understanding how your bodies and elements work?"

Vera looked away and said, "I mean, it's a little uncomfortable to feel like you're being studied, I guess, but the moles are always doing it, so we're kind of used to it now."

"I'm not trying to objectify you, I'm just curious is all."

"I know it. I suppose part of it is just that I overreacted to you trying to get a handle on how our magic works. It's something we're always told not to talk about to other races."

"I see," said Wylee. "Perhaps cheetahs aren't the only race who teaches their young things they don't truly understand."

Wither grimaced at that and said, "There, I think, is some wisdom. My parents never gave me this lecture, so when I was introduced to it for the first time I didn't really agree with it either. I don't see the point. That's probably why I don't mind talking about it more than any other reason really."

"Thank you for sharing it with me. I promise not to repeat it to anyone without your permission."

They walked in silence for a while, trudging through bushes, over roots, and between trees, occasionally stopping at a stream for water. All the talk concerning the dragons' history and elemental secrets banished any other thoughts from Wylee's mind. But now that silence stretched on after their conversation the painful memories of his situation with Brook loomed at the edges of his mind.

In an effort to free himself of their torment, he thought about his mother. She was still an enigmatic figure to him, shrouded by a pall of wonder and awe. Who was she? Where was she? What was she? What was she like?

His father had already informed him that she was a self-taught wielder of magic. But just how powerful was she anyway? Being a mage was not something he knew much about, seeing as he knew no magic or anyone other than dragons who could perform it. But it was no secret that anyone who wished to learn the arcane arts had to devote years upon years of study solely to magic to become an Adept. Adepts were something to be feared, as Wylee had learned from his time in the dragon library. According to the tales he had read, ones like Brim, the legendary pyromancer, who defeated Vesper the Purple Dragon, were extremely rare, even back when magic was more prominent among the other races.

Could it be that his mother was an Adept, the highest ranking mage? Or had she only gone as far as a few rudimentary parlor tricks that had awed his father into believing what she knew was impressive?

If only he could meet her. He could ask her how she had taken the first steps down the path that led to her learning how to reshape the world to her whims. Wylee desperately wished he could learn how to perform magic, but he had always accepted it as beyond him. Magic was always something he thought of as a characteristic of one's body. Either you were born with it or you weren't. And only dragons were born with magic. He could no more cast a spell than fly with the wings his form lacked.

But when his father told him that his mother had learned how to do it…it brought all the old desires and sorrow back, sorrow that his desires could not be fulfilled due to a lack of knowledge. It was dreadful to know that the only thing that held him back from accomplishing his dreams was not knowing how to begin. If only his mother were there. Perhaps she could tell him; maybe she could teach him.

Wylee knelt down and picked up a rock. It was utterly ordinary, a cool, grey lump of smooth stone that fit in the center of his palm. He stared at the rock for a long time, thinking about everything he knew of rocks: how they formed, what they were made of, how dense they were. None of that knowledge seemed to help him master it, though. He nudged at the rock experimentally with his mind. Nothing happened. As expected. It was just a rock. And he was just a cheetah, attempting the impossible. He nearly dropped the rock, but on a sudden impulse, stuck it in one of his various pockets instead.

As he did so, he noticed Elleca eyeing him by his side. "What are you doing with that thing? It's just a rock."

"Nothing," said Wylee before turning back to look at the path. "It just interests me is all."

"You're interested in a rock."

Wylee said nothing and continued walking, Elleca let out a low hum that could have meant anything and faced forward again. They had been walking for several hours now and the trees kept going. However, based on their previous calculations before their departure, they were nearing the edge of these woods.

Their trek through the Sage Wood further north would take much longer than the journey through the comparatively small patch of woods that sprawled along Warfang's northern side. They ought to be free of the trees not too long after the first rays of the sun rise peeked over the horizon. But that was still another hour or so away.

The talk had helped pass the time, but after becoming engrossed in the fascinating topics they discussed as well as his thoughts regarding magic and his mother, Wylee had failed to take note of his surroundings for some time now. As he looked around and noticed that there were an awful lot of massive webs spreading throughout the forest spanning some impressive distances from tree to tree. Wylee immediately reached over his shoulder and unsheathed his staff, holding it spear end out, gripping the rod closer to the weighted mace end.

Elleca saw this and grimaced at the movement. "Finally noticed, huh? Took you long enough. We've been walking by these webs for about ten minutes now. Not the most observant guy, are you?"

"I was distracted," said Wylee, keeping his voice low and glancing from tree to tree. These webs were not unfamiliar to him. His people often came back to the village after a hunt to report an infestation of the giant spiders that could kill a cheetah. There were raid parties regularly organized to wipe out infestations that migrated too close to their villages and hunting grounds. This particular nest was much worse than anything he had ever heard tales of based on the amount of webs he could see.

"Why are there so many webs? There must be hundreds of those things living here. Don't the dragons do anything to keep these woods safe?"

At the head of the group, Wither spoke up, none too stealthily. "The giant spiders that live here are mainly only a problem when they devour too much of our food. These woods are our hunting grounds, but this is a bit further out than our parents have to go to find prey, so this colony isn't bothering us. If they get too close to the city and start competing for our food, then we start exterminating them and remind them why they have to live so far north."

Wylee winced at Wither's volume and cupped his hands around his mouth to whisper viciously at him. "Wither, aren't you afraid they'll hear us? We need to be quiet."

Wither turned around and looked at Wylee with a curious expression. "What? We'll be fine. They aren't that dangerous are they? I mean, my dad told me about them plenty of times. He never had any trouble fighting them when he was my age. I doubt I'll fare much worse. They're tenacious beasts, from what he told me, but if you kill enough of them they should get the message and back off."

"No," said Wylee as he thrust his hands out at Wither. "Arachnids are predatory by nature. And the giant purple ones with four legs have a pack mentality. They're more like wolves than anything. They'll attempt to overwhelm anything that they catch with sheer numbers and brute force. They're extremely aggressive and fight to the last soldier. Normally, a colony only contains about a couple dozen or so, but this one looks ten times bigger than the ones we see in Avalar Valley. If they catch us, we'll be doomed."

Wither looked to the left of the path and saw what could only be the remains of a bear clinging to the wispy grey threads that drifted forlornly in a breeze they could not feel. Without another word, Wither slowed his pace until he was walking in the center of his cluster of friends. He motioned with his paw for everyone to get close to him.

They all huddled up and kept a lookout, each of them searching for any sign of movement. There were enough of them to look in all directions, making a surprise attack all but impossible. But though Wylee had always been too young to go on the spider raids, the raiders' stories were enough to tell him that it was not out between the trees where they should be looking. The giant spiders were simple beasts. They never changed tactics. Always when sensing a threatening presence, they would hide and attack from above when the moment was right. They were probably slowly, quietly moving into position in the canopy above, forming a massive ring around the group before making their presence known.

Wylee nudged Elleca and pointed upward. She passed the information along to Vera and before long everyone was looking up, only occasionally glancing down to make sure nothing was sneaking up on them on the ground. The forest was quiet here. Normally it was a place of life and luster, but the presence of the giant spiders seemed to have somehow sapped the vitality from the land. Now it was a dead place of fear and suffering. Even the trees appeared snared by the wild tangle of webs that choked the foliage lower to the ground of any sunlight. Where once there was the greenery of a veritable assortment of flora, there now were only pale, shriveled mockeries of plants and cracked and scattered bones.

No animals dared visit this region of the forest any longer. Clearly the spiders had to hunt for their food and bring it back to their territory to devour, for the stillness was such that the party's footsteps nearly echoed through the trees. Every leaf that crackled underfoot, every twig that snapped with their passing, sent Wylee's ears twitching anxiously, trying desperately to determine the origin of every noise, no matter how faint, imagined or otherwise.

A sudden wind kicked up overhead, rustling the canopy and causing the shadows to dance in the shifting moonlight that streamed down in silvery shafts through the branches above. And it was somewhere in that swishing of the leaves that Wylee's sensitive ears caught the faint rasp of something hard on bark.

He reacted on instinct, all thought leaving him in an instant. Wylee raised his staff, aiming the spear tip above and just ahead of where they were about to walk. In the same movement he placed one of his fingers on one of the releases on his staff, firing the spear from his staff like a harpoon. As the coil unfurled to give the tip more range, a startled screech pierced the night. The projectile sailed through the leaves and struck something soft and wet.

A purple four legged spider fell from the branches and landed on its back less than ten paces from Psy and Vera. The spear was buried deep in one of its largest eyes, and as it hit the ground its legs were already curling in towards its body, making the whole thing seem much smaller than it was alive. Even still, it was easily the size of one of the young dragons.

Psy and Vera both jumped at the sight of the beast as it slammed into the ground and completed its death throes right before their eyes. Before they had more time to react Wylee was in front of them and shouting while staring up into the trees. "We need to get out of here. They know the game is over now. They'll have us surrounded soon if we aren't already. Everyone stay together; they'll pick us off if we leave the slightest opening."

Wylee pressed another button on his staff and the spear was ripped out of the creature's skull with a squelch and zipped back to reattach where it belonged. He then pressed forward at a pace that he believed his friends would be able to follow. It was agonizingly slow for a cheetah. His muscles twitched and his nerves burned with a desire for action. Danger was close at hand and his body was telling him to get away as fast as he could, but he would not leave his friends to fend for themselves. Their best chance for survival was for each of them to fight together when the need arose.

And indeed, the need did come. For down from the treetops there came a horde the likes of which Wylee had only ever seen on the battlefields outside Warfang's walls the past few moons. There at least, they had stood atop a wall surrounded by layer upon layer of heavy defenses, and little to no action was actually required of those who were stationed along the wall to observe the progression of the enemy.

Here in the dark wood, they were already plunged deep into the heart of an army of hungering spiders, each large enough to crush them with the sheer weight of their bodies. It only took a few seconds of turning from side to side to know there was no way of overcoming them all. As Wylee and the others dashed through the trees, slashing and cutting aside webs as they did so, the nearest creatures moved in. They would have to try to kill or maim whatever came within reaching distance quick enough that they were not slowed. If they lingered, they would be lost for certain.

Two of the monsters came in from the sides at the fore of the group, the rapid thumping of their skittering legs upon the ground revealing the revolting eagerness with which they advanced upon them. Vera spat a wicked lime-green venom directly into the eyes of the one on her side, blinding the beast and sending it reeling away in agony, while Psy used the many shadows of the night to build a trap for the other on his side.

Wylee barely had time to register that the spider was apparently unable to move past a certain point to get any closer to them. Rather than question it he merely ran on, firing his spear at another spider several yards in front of the group, once again expertly piercing a large eye and stabbing the brain before jerking the tip back out for another shot.

Bright flashes of light and electric humming filled the air behind them, making Wylee vaguely aware that Elleca was doing her part to keep the spiders from catching them from behind. And though all of their combined efforts did little to stop the tide of thrashing beasts, a great many came to an almost immediate halt only to curl in on themselves, already dead before any attack could be made on their flesh. It took Wylee several relieved yet confused seconds to realize that this was probably Wither's doing.

Though between Wylee, Vera, Psy, and Elleca a couple scores of the great arachnids fell, and twice as many to Wither besides, they kept coming as he knew they would. The deaths of their fellow nest mates did nothing to deter them from acquiring their prizes. They were all too ready to sacrifice their lives at the prospect of a meal. And still the many acres upon acres of web strewn woods stretched away before them, the ghoulish shadows of hundreds more spiders rushing towards them from every direction.

The next few minutes could have lasted for seconds or hours for all Wylee knew. After covering more ground than he would have thought possible and without anyone sustaining any injuries, he could feel weariness creeping into his muscles. They had put up an impeccable fight, but the woods continued relentlessly into the distance, as did the inexorable march of the spiders. How much longer could they keep this up? How much longer would they have to? The situation seemed hopeless. Even if they somehow managed to clear the spiders' territory, that was no reason for them to suddenly give up the chase. Now that they had suffered so many casualties, they would most likely pursue them on principle alone.

A yelp from behind shattered his fear and drove a spike of iron through his mind. He whirled around and fired his spear at a spider that had slashed at Elleca, cutting her hind leg with a razor tipped claw. The spear plunged into the beast's maw, tearing its way down its throat before he reeled it back and allowed the creature to drown in its own blood. "How is it?" he asked as she limped along.

"I'll be fine, keep going."

Another spider spat one of its sticky web shots at her and she went down, struggling to free her legs. Four spiders nearly tripped over each other in their attempts to get at her before the others. Wither went back and placed himself between them and Elleca. He raised a paw and shouted so loudly that his voice echoed over the thumping of the hundreds of legs all around. "Be gone!"

Dark clouds rose up from the ground and engulfed the spiders in an instant before surging back into the shadows to disappear as quickly as they had come. When the clouds were gone so too were the spiders. Wither then turned and placed a paw on the webs around Elleca. His paw went translucent as did the webs and he pulled them through Elleca's body and cast them aside before helping her to her feet. "Come on, I'll help you."

But just Wither helped Elleca to her feet Vera let out a scream. Wylee turned and saw that one of the spiders had approached her unnoticed from behind and bit her in the flank. Immediately the spider staggered away and fell over sideways, its entire face melting from the acid Vera's body excreted in self defense. But already its damage was done. The spiders were not venomous, but their fangs were like daggers. Two holes oozing a mix of blood and acid dripped in Vera's side.

She fell to the ground with the spider, and though the spider had definitely gotten the worse end of the assault, it was clear that Vera would not be able to move with any amount of swiftness for some time. They were stuck here if they still wished to escape with everyone alive.

Wylee watched as Vera lay on the ground breathing deeply and trying not to pass out. Psy was suddenly stuck trying to hold back all of the spiders with a shadow barrier that none of the monsters could cross for the time being. Elleca was injured and Wither was holding the dragoness close to him and staring at all the creatures trying desperately to find a way through or around Psy's shadow ward.

Wylee looked out past the line of shadow on the ground that was darker than the others. There was a thrashing wall of voracious spiders crawling over the top of one another in a nearly mindless attempt to feast. The ground shook with the sickening thumping of their legs and the trees shook as they bumped into one another and crashed into the barrier holding them back. Psy's face was nearly covered in the darkness, but his voice made the strain he was under quite evident. "I can't hold it forever. What do we do?"

Wylee looked back and forth between the spiders and his friends, wondering how they were going to escape from this. Tears welled in his eyes, but he willed them back in. He took a deep breath and said under his breath, "I'm sorry, Brook. I wish I could have…but maybe it's better this way."

And then suddenly everything was quiet. The thrashing of the spiders was quelled as they all stilled. The noise of their greedy thrashing about was sucked out of the air in an instant. Beyond Psy's barrier, they began to cower and retreat as a wave passed through the air. It felt as though space and time were being moved aside to make room for something else that wasn't there before. Wylee looked up and saw that Wither was covered in flowing streams of rippling air like the waters of a recently disturbed pond. His eyes gleamed black and his tail spade had opened to reveal a black crystal the size of his paw hovering suspended amid a whirling matrix of what remain of his tail spade. Wither stepped forward and reality moved out of his way in a distorted wave that moved backward and forward in time, making it look as though he made the same step somewhere between three of four times. A proud grin spread across his face as he said in a voice that caused cracks in the fabric of being around him, "Let us begin, then."


	5. Chapter 5-Over the Edge

Chapter 5-Over the Edge

Wither held Elleca close and said in a hushed whisper, "It's okay, we'll get you healed up after this is over. Everything's going to be fine."

"You don't know that, Wither," said Elleca in return. She was grimacing in pain and pulling her hind leg in close to her body to avoid putting weight on it. Even her nerves of steel appeared to have shattered at the dire circumstances they now found themselves in.

All around the spiders were thrashing clumsily at the shadow barrier that Psy held up between them and the group. It was clear that he couldn't hold the shield up for much longer; he was doing all that he could to keep the shadows a solid divider between them and gruesome death. Vera was actually in worse condition than Elleca was, and Wylee appeared to have zoned out.

None of his friends were in any condition to hold off the torrent of foes that waited most impatiently to have at them. Wither would have used his power to kill the spiders, but there were simply too many even for his abilities to overcome. They had reached the end of a battle against impossible odds. This was the outcome they had been fated to the moment they stepped into the spiders' territory. If only he hadn't been so cocky. He knew that the spiders were dangerous from the stories that his father had told him, but he had thought that if Spyro could defeat them, then so could he. It was only now that Wither realized his father never mentioned fighting more than two of the creatures at once.

This host was much too large for the five of them to fight alone. Wither could only imagine his mother, father, and Yarrow being capable of making a difference in a fight of this magnitude. But neither of them were here right now.

Then Wither raised his head and stared out at the swarm desperately striving to devour them beyond the barrier. They weren't there right now. Not his father or his mother. But most importantly, Yarrow wasn't there. No one was around to forbid him to use his secret weapon. If he went Hypoactive, this horde would be far easier to deal with; they might even stand a decent chance of escaping alive. A quick second glance at his surrounds made up Wither's mind. For the sake of saving their lives, he would do it. He had to. There was no other alternative.

"Yes. I do," said Wither. He looked down at Elleca and laid her gently on the ground so as not to disturb her injury. "Don't move. I'll protect you." Then Wither looked back at the spiders and said, "I'm sorry, Yarrow."

Wither closed his eyes and searched for the power he knew lay dormant within him. That hollow core of infinity that could swallow anything and everything. He had never tried to use that power out of sheer force of will, and as he reached deep within himself he was terrified that he wouldn't be able to. But then, as he wished inwardly for the power to come to him, the world slowed down. The thumping and flailing of the spiders slowed and dulled until it was gone. He opened his eyes and everything appeared to be moving in slow motion.

" **Yes, Hallowed One, you called?"**

Wither blinked. That voice. The world seemed to spin around him and a great dizziness overcame him. Memories rushed through his head, one after the other. That voice. He had heard it before, spoken with it before. Why had he forgotten? All the conversations he had had with it were now suddenly and inexplicably clear and fresh in his mind.

"What? Who are you?"

" **Nobody. Nobody at all."**

Wither felt his eyebrows knit together at the logistics of that statement. "That can't be true. If you are nobody, then how is it you speak with me? Be honest with me. Who are you? And why have I forgotten you before now? Have you been messing with my head?"

" **Peace, Promised One. I am here for you at all times, in your heart. I shall never lie to you. I am just as I claim. I am not simply nobody. I am Nobody."**

And with the voice came a feeling. It was like hearing pure truth crystallize within Wither's ears, each syllable ringing with the unmistakable note of the absolute. This voice was undeniably, without a shadow of a doubt, telling him the truth. It could be trusted completely and implicitly. It was not just that it wasn't lying or that it didn't sound deceptive. The voice had the indescribable yet somehow obvious inherent nature of being truth itself. The voice was soft and echoing, commanding yet servile, ancient and wise. It came from nowhere, yet everywhere, and though it was soft it permeated the world and everything within it like a thick, ever present substance that could not be washed away by force or thought or time.

Wither allowed his initial distrust to fall away like an undesirable burden he hadn't known he ever shouldered. He looked all around and listened eagerly for more of the voice. The time had come, he decided, to get acquainted with this mysterious entity. "So, when you say you are Nobody, you mean what, exactly?"

" **Precisely that, Hollow Heart. I am Nobody, Nothing, Nowhere, Null, Naught. I am the emptiness in your heart. I am the dead of eons past. I am the wind of yester-millennia, the dark that chases the light, the cold drifting in heat's wake. I am the days gone by, the words unspoken, the dreams unfulfilled. I am the paths untraveled, the lives unlived, the pages unwritten. I have always never been. I Am Not."**

Wither stopped looking all around in an attempt to find the source of the voice. "You—you're the Void?"

" **You have called me that. I am all that is not. I Was Not before there even Was, the Nothing before creation."**

Wither sat down and looked at his friends and the spiders again. They were now still, waiting in the confines of a single instant for his conversation with this being of unfathomable origin to reach its close. "If you're the nothing before creation, then when did you come to be?"

A laugh filled the air around Wither. It was the light hearted laughter of an elder who was just asked a silly question by a youngling.

" **I Am Not. I have not, nor shall I ever be. And since there was Nothing before there Was, I am timeless. I say again, O Hallowed One, I have always never been."**

Wither shivered and let this sink in for a moment before speaking again into the night. "What do you want with me?"

" **I am you, Hollow Heart. You carry me with you always. I am that absence within your heart, the void where all other dragons possess their spark. I shall always be there for you, to use as you will, to make possible the impossible, to lend you the strength you need when you lack it. With me, all things are beneath you. You are Master and Commander, Alpha and Omega, Beginning and End, the Destroying Creation. The Promised One I have awaited all these millennia."**

Wither placed a paw to his chest as Nobody spoke to him. The concept was difficult to grasp, but coming together the more the eldritch entity spoke. "Why do you keep calling me that? You have all of these lovely honorifics you keep addressing me with. Why? How is something like you so awed by me?"

" **There will be time for talk in the future, Unmaker. You are about to break the fourth and final seal that weakens our connection. Then you shall be able to remember to call upon me whenever your heart desires, not just when your need is most dire. You broke the first seal when that Malefor showed you how. The second when that same Malefor ended the life of your beloved Yarrow. The third when the next Yarrow instructed you to. Now, for the fourth time you stand before the edge. Already, the bonds keeping us apart are weakening. Your memories of me have returned in full force. All that remains is for you to take that final step. Step over the edge and accept me into you. Together, with my help, you shall sweep away all the problems that presently trouble you. I await your command, Hallowed One. All your wishes are mine to fulfill."**

Wither stood then and, still looking at the spiders beyond his injured friends said, "I need you."

The world exploded into motion and a cacophony that stilled almost as quickly as it resumed. The power that surged through Wither was beyond measure. He felt a yawning fissure open deep within his heart and a great hunger that he and he alone was able to control. It was like being at the center of the entire universe, and Wither reveled in the sheer ecstasy that enveloped him. It was like he was finally becoming what he was truly supposed to be, something that he had not known until this moment. He instantly understood the nature of his power and the magnitude of it. The giddiness that welled up inside him tore an unsuppressed grin across his jaw. There was nothing he could not do. He knew it. He could feel it. And it was perfection.

Wither watched as the spiders fled before him. They could feel his might as well, though scared as they were, they could not begin to understand just what exactly was about to happen. Wither took a step forward and allowed a wellspring of unadulterated delight and satisfaction wash through him as the very world itself moved aside for him, also afraid of what he would do to the fabric of being should a whimsy take him.

But no, his intentions were pure. This was merely an act of self defense. So he watched the spiders for a few seconds more before saying, "Let us begin, then."

And oh, how the universe quivered and shuddered at the mere sound of his voice, shaking itself apart at the seams where he stood, trying desperately to escape the hunger that he prepared to direct. He raised a paw as one might to scratch an itch upon their muzzle. With a casual flick of his wrist and a dismissive wave he said to the spiders, "Be not."

And they were no longer. One moment the hundreds of spiders were skittering away as fast as their furiously thumping legs could take them, and the next instant they were simply gone. If Wither had of blinked he would have missed it.

With the spiders gone and no other immediate threat endangering them, Wither looked down now to Elleca who lay trembling at his feet looking up into his eyes. He reached down and saw her flinch, but she recovered when he merely waved a paw over her injured leg. Instantly, the scratch and the blood were gone from her scales. Not even a scar remained to commemorate the battle. It was as though it had never existed in the first place.

Wither moved on then and stopped before Vera who lay on her side, breathing quick shallow breaths and apparently trying not to pass out. When she looked at Wither, it was with glazed eyes, covered in a glassy film of tears from the searing pain of her ordeal. Wither waved a paw over the two shallow yet deep puncture wounds of the spider bite that she had suffered in the attempted escape. They too were wiped clean from the world, erased from existence like an ill conceived line of poetry or a poorly executed stroke of the paw in an otherwise promising sketch.

Wither thought inwardly then. _"Thank you, Nobody. That will be all for now."_

A silent impression of understanding met his thoughts before the yawning fissure of his heart closed and he was once again merely Wither. He stood over Vera who stared up at him with a look that reminded him of the faces that watched him the day he tore out Arragor's spark and drained his father in the plaza. An uneasy feeling crept into Wither's heart as he looked down at her.

He gave her an attempt at a smile and held out his paw. "Need help?"

She took his paw wordlessly, and he pulled her to a sitting position. He inspected her flank again to make certain there were no traces of the horrible wounds that had been there a moment ago. "How are you? Any pain?"

She shook her head dumbly at him before looking around at the rest of the members of the party around her.

"Good," said Wither. He looked to Elleca then and inclined his head. "And you? All better?"

She only nodded in response as well, speechless for once in her life.

Wither turned to look at Psy to see how he was holding up. Now that the shadow dragon was no longer under the strain of holding a barrier keeping dozens of attackers at bay, he was recovering quickly and just shaking his head at Wither in what Wither hoped was amazement.

His friends' silence began to make Wither nervous again and he turned to Wylee, his last resort to get some sort of verbal response to break the ice. "You all right over there, Wylee? For a moment there it looked as though you'd given up."

Wylee let out a single humorless laugh. "We were dead. We must be dead. There was no way out. Is this the way the mind copes with the loss of the body? Creates some illusion with the semblance of a continued life? Because there's no way what I think I just watched happen actually happened."

Wither looked around and slowly shook his head. "No. I got rid of the spiders. We're fine now. Everything's going to be okay. We can continue our journey once everyone's ready."

Now Psy spoke up from Wither's periphery. He cocked his head, narrowing and crinkling his eyes in disbelief and confusion. "Are you just going to pretend that was no big deal and not explain what happened?"

Wither looked away and shrugged. "What? So I went Hypoactive. You guys have seen that before. Well, maybe not you, Wylee, but the rest of you have. Twice. The only time you didn't see was during my fury inspection with Yarrow and my parents. Why are you so surprised? I thought you knew what I could do? You watched me hold off Malefor all by myself. All I did was get rid of some spiders."

"Yeah, but there were hundreds of them," said Elleca in exasperation, finally finding her voice. "And you did it like it was nothing. Like it was the finishing move in some game. The glory of victory was on your face before you even made your move. When you fought Malefor you had to give it your all for minutes on end and you were distraught. I know Malefor is stronger than a bunch of giant spiders, but I think what you just did went way beyond what happened that day.

"You were frightening just now, Wither. I was right there at your feet when you changed. It felt like the world was coming undone around me. I thought I might die."

Wither shook his head and said, "Absolutely not! Don't ever feel that way toward me again. I'm your friend, Elleca. I'm a friend to all of you. I was trying to protect you. I would never hurt you. Even by accident. I was in total control."

"I know you were," said Elleca. She stood apart from Wither, closer to the others, but unlike them made certain to maintain eye contact. Her voice dropped low now, so Wither had to listen carefully to hear. "That was what made it so terrifying. It wasn't the reckless, wild abandon of a fury attack, the desperate, last ditch effort of any dragon facing certain death. You were calm. Composed. And your power was directed exactly as you willed it, rather than thrashing about in the maelstrom we're all familiar with." Elleca gestured to Psy and Vera as she said this.

She pointed at Wither with a solitary claw and continued. "You were deliberate every second of the way. Such power…that's one thing, but to control it, too. I just don't know what to think of that right now."

Wither let out a frustrated sigh and waved a paw at all of his friends. "So what? Are you all going to be afraid of me now or something? Just because of the way I saved your lives?"

Psy stepped forward and saluted Wither. It was an awkward gesture for a dragon to make, which made it somewhat comical to observe. "You still have my support, sir. I think 'afraid' is the wrong term to use here. 'Awe' might work better. What you did was beyond awesome. It's just a bit much to take in all at once, you know."

Psy nudged Elleca in the ribs and said, "I think Elleca just saw the power you were using and forgot who was wielding it in the heat of the moment. After all, she was injured and we all thought we were going to die, so emotions were running high, am I right?" Psy leaned in toward Elleca at the end of his question.

Elleca's expression changed then and she looked up at Wither and shuffled her paws. "Yeah, I mean, I know you were just trying to save us and all. I'm sorry, Wither. I was just overwhelmed I suppose. I think I'm already getting over it, now that we're not in danger anymore." She gave Wither a nervous smile that Psy and Vera did their best to mimic.

Only Wylee remained openly amazed, staring at Wither, mouth slightly ajar. "How did you do it?" the cheetah finally managed to ask.

"What?" The question left Wither's mouth before he realized what Wylee was asking him. "You mean how did I get rid of the spiders?"

Wylee nodded silently, waiting for an answer.

"I just made them stop existing. It's something I can do just by wanting to. I mean, you know that, Wylee. How many times have you questioned me about my powers on the wall around Warfang? You've seen what I can do. This was just bigger. That's all."

"But what's the difference?" said Wylee. "What's the difference between you when you're just using your power normally and what you just did? Do you know how to explain it? It must not be like other dragons' fury the way the others seem to think. I know you've said before that you can't remember anything about it after it's happened, but are you sure you don't have the faintest, vaguest scrap of a memory? Anything between the beginning and the end of it? Anything at all? I'm curious."

Wither widened his eyes in surprise and said, "Oh, well actually—"

" **Careful, Hollow Heart. Your friends are still recovering from their ordeal, and your power surprises them. How do you think they would cope with the knowledge that you hear a voice in your head? Do you think they might take it in stride? It's something to think about."**

Wither was unsurprised by Nobody's interruption. His voice sounding in his mind was not startling, even when unexpected. It felt like another part of him was simply speaking up. At first Wither listened to Nobody's counsel thoughtfully, taking his time to mull the eldritch entity's words over.

However, after a few seconds of sitting there and staring off into space Wylee bent at the waist to look Wither in the eyes at his level. "Yes? Do you remember something?"

Wither jumped at the unexpected movement and conversation directed at him. "What? Oh, no."

"No?" Wylee's excitement drooped. "You looked like you were recalling something there."

"No," said Wither again. This time his voice was firm. Though inwardly he thought, _"I thought you stopped time for our conversations."_

" **I had to devour the time around you to speak with you before all the seals were broken. Now that they're gone we can speak freely."**

Wylee straightened up and cocked his head in much the same way Psy had earlier. "Are you sure? You seem off."

Wither nodded and wiped his forehead with a paw. He suddenly felt exhausted. After the adrenaline rush of escaping from the spiders, their stagnation in the middle of the woods was beginning to wear on him. "Yes, I'm just tired is all. We should keep moving. I'd like to reach the tree line before we make camp."

Wylee stared at Wither for a moment, looking thoughtful, before shrugging his shoulders and taking a quick look around. Once he got his bearings he pointed through the trees and said, "This way."

They walked the rest of the way through the woods in silence, something that Wither was both thankful for and wary of. He did not want to be bothered by his friends, but neither did he wish to be ignored by them. After what felt like hours, though it couldn't have been much longer than a few minutes, a low roar filled the air. As they walked on it grew louder. In his exhausted state, it took Wither several minutes to realize that it was the rushing waters of the Roh River, which meant they had finally reached the edge of Warfang's northern wood.

Wither's limbs ached as they did after physical training with his friends by the time they saw the edge of the trees. Wylee stopped and turned to address the dragons. "We should rest here. Just past the river is a stretch of scrubland that will take us the better part of an afternoon to cross. I'd rather not stop out in the open. After we cross the plain, we can rest again at the edge of Sage Wood. Does this sound agreeable to everyone?"

The others nodded wordlessly, too tired for conversation. Wylee nodded once in acknowledgement and unshouldered his pack, rolling his arms sockets before sitting on a fallen tree. "I'll take the first watch. Get some sleep."

Psy needed no coaxing, for the second he heard this he flopped down and pulled a wing over his head like a sheet to block out the first rays of dawn peeking through the openings between the trees. Vera was hardly any pickier, searching briefly for a soft spot where there was more moss than rocks before curling up and hugging her own tail.

Wither tried to settle down as his friends had, but with little success. He was more than tired enough to retire for the morning, but he could not get comfortable. After scouring the camp they had made for a suitable resting spot, he laid on a patch of leaves that just felt very much like the cold hard ground. He shifted one way, trying to find something that felt right, only to roll over on his other side a few minutes later. No matter which way he lay, he could not find a position that allowed him even the slightest comfort.

After several minutes of muttered frustration and tossing and turning, he heard a muffled laugh. Wither turned to see Elleca walking toward him with an expression that seemed both amused and apprehensive. She sat down in front of him and muttered quietly so as not to wake the others, who were already snoring. "Having trouble sleeping are we?"

Wither rolled on his side and looked up at Elleca with what he imagined was a right proper frown. "The ground is too hard. I don't understand how anyone could manage to fall asleep on such an inhospitable surface."

Elleca smiled then, her head bobbing up and down in laughter, though all Wither could hear were faint puffs of air escaping her nostrils. He wouldn't have been able to hear at all if she weren't so close. She opened her eyes and looked down at him, clearly bemused. "Looks like the pampered prince of Warfang can't get his beauty sleep without his mountain of fluffy cushions."

Wither looked at Elleca in surprise. He had not considered that his way of living could be the source of his restlessness out here in the woods, so far from all the luxuries of Spyro tower. He groaned and flopped down, knocking his head against a rock before tearfully moving his head back, which just strained his neck. Moving his head forward made his back ache, and he was once again forced to resituate his entire body.

Elleca rolled her eyes and lay down, rolling over on her side and pressing her back against Wither's belly. At once, Wither ceased his wriggling and looked down in surprise. Elleca looked up and peered at him upside down. "Perhaps a little warmth and company is all you need to relax."

Even at this unfamiliar angle, Wither could detect a glint in Elleca's eyes. He promptly rose and without looking at her said, "I appreciate the gesture."

He walked away, leaving her to watch him leave. While Wither attempted to find a new place to sleep, he caught Wylee's eye, who only raised a single eyebrow at him before looking away toward the river as if in contemplation. Wither found a place not too far from where Vera lay and found that the moss was a bit softer than a thin bed of leaves, though as Elleca had pointed out, it was still nowhere near as soothing as his cushions at home.

Even so, the exertions of the previous day finally caught up to him and swallowed him up in a dark embrace. As the world fell away, Wither realized that he retained his consciousness. He looked around in the darkness in confusion. "What's going on?"

" **I figured we'd have a chat. I know you've been wanting to talk to me since you defeated the spiders. Your friends won't bother you while you're sleeping."**

Wither allowed his mind to relax and continued to lie in the darkness. "Oh, thank you, Nobody."

" **Of course, Hallowed One. I wish to serve you as best I can."**

Wither felt his nose twitch as a not so unfriendly snarl curled his lip. "You know, you don't have to keep talking to me that way. I may be a one of a kind dragon, but I'm still just a youngling. Just call me Wither, alright?"

" **Of course, Wither. I look forward to getting to know you better. After all, you are my conduit."**

Wither lay in his sleeping mind's representation of the Void, his eyes closed. "What do you mean by that? How am I your conduit? And why have you used so many honorifics to address me until now? It seems strange to me that one such as you would treat me with such reverence."

" **You are one to be revered. Especially by one such as me. I am Nobody, Nothing. I have no way of interacting with the physical realm. For eternity I have been alone. Now I have you. You are the only means by which I might affect the material plane. And for that, you are my whole world."**

Wither felt touched by Nobody's words and opened his eyes to look upon the endless black expanse. "I had no idea I was so important to you. So tell me then, why did you scare me that day I retrieved Renna's soul. Why did you torment her and then me. You never let us sleep. You wore us ragged. And I had no idea what was going on. I wanted it to stop, but I had no way of knowing how."

" **It was selfish of me, I suppose. I tried everything I could to reach out to you, to breach the seals that kept us apart, but without your desire to beckon me, it was impossible. That is, until you were asleep. The seals weakened then, when your mind was dormant in the depths of slumber. I was able to whisper through the walls, though ultimately it was completely up to you to snap our bonds. You are the conduit who controls the power. I am merely the power.**

" **As for your friend, she is a Void Warden. You entrusted her with a portion of your power, a small piece of me. That is how I was able to communicate with her as well. I saw her as simply another opportunity to communicate with you. I reasoned that the more to whom I spoke, the more I would be heard."**

Wither inclined his head and remained silent for a while. Nobody appeared to be a lonely creature who had waited longer than all time for a chance to express itself to someone. Wither supposed that he could not blame Nobody's repeated attempts to make itself known. "So, you mean me no harm, then?"

" **Never. Wither, I could no more harm you than I could harm myself. We are as one, you and I. You are the body I could never have. You are the physical manifestation of nothing, a paradoxical marvel the likes of which nothing in this universe shall ever parallel. You are my greatest treasure. I shall protect you like nothing else has ever been protected before. Why, the whole world might return to stardust, and still you would live on under my wing."**

Wither's jaw hung open at the implications of Nobody's proclamation. "You mean to make me immortal? But I don't want to live forever. I'd have to watch all my friends grow old and die without me. I'd be miserable."

" **There is no need for alarm, Wither. All your wishes are mine to fulfill. When the day comes that you find there is nothing else left to live for, I shall sweep you into the Void to join all your ancestors of ages past. You shall return to the nothing from whence you came, for everything has its time, but only when you are ready."**

Wither settled down then and thought about it. Nobody was promising him that he would only die when he wanted to. He did not have to fear a premature death, but neither did he have to endure eternity. Neither prospect was welcoming. Now Wither felt invigorated in a way he never had before. The knowledge that he would pass into the world of the ancestors at a time of his choosing was more liberating than anything he had ever experienced.

Wither looked up into the black infinity again and said, "Thank you, Nobody. You have given me much to think about. Now if you don't mind, I would like to rest my mind as well as my body."

" **Of course, Wither. Until tomorrow. Good night."**

And Wither's thoughts ceased until Psy shook him awake for his turn to stand guard. Once Wither was awake the shadow dragon leaned forward until his muzzle was an inch from Wither's ear and said, "You're the last one. Wake us at high sun and then we'll be off."

Wither nodded and stood watch over the rest of his friends. His watch was as uneventful as he imagined his friends' to be, and once high sun was upon them he began to shake everyone awake. Only Psy and Vera grumbled at his coaxing. Wylee opened his eyes and was instantly in action. He walked off into the trees to perform his daily ablutions. Wither allowed Psy to wake Elleca who stretched out like a cat, showing off her exquisite curves until she opened her eyes and saw that it was Psy who had woken her. She then wasted no time rising on all fours and releasing a rather lengthy yawn.

"Charming," said Psy with little enthusiasm as she finally closed her mouth and licked at her lips.

She gave him a slight scowl and waved a paw at him. "Shut up, Psy. No one's pretty in the morning."

"Didn't stop you from trying though, right?" said Psy with a grin.

Elleca placed a paw on his face and gently shoved him away as she walked past him and into the bushes. A few minutes later everyone had visited their own section of the woods nearby and was back at the makeshift campsite. Psy pointed off toward the part in the trees nearby where the rushing roar of the river could be heard and said, "Onward to dangerously wide open spaces followed by more trees."

Vera groaned and gave Psy a piercing glare. "It sounds so exciting when you put it like that."

Wylee cleared his throat to gain everyone's attention. "I know this journey is dangerous, but Sage Wood is supposed to actually be quite beautiful from what I hear. I've never been there personally, but I've heard stories from other cheetahs passing through my village. They say the forest is alive in ways others aren't. Everything is brighter in the day and darker at night. And the whole place is supposed to smell like the most soothing incense."

Psy raised one eyebrow at Wylee and said, "Parts of that sounded enticing. Others? Not so much. What I'm worried about right now is the scrublands just north of the river."

"Yes," said Wylee in understanding. "The scrublands are open with so little cover you might as well say there's none at all. If we're caught by enemies out there, we'll be in much the same predicament as last night."

"Then who cares what happens out there?" said Vera, clearly eager to be gone. "If we are attacked, we'll defend ourselves. And if that isn't enough, Wither can just disappear our enemies away like he did with the spiders, right?"

Elleca shivered and looked away from the group. "I don't know," she said as she looked out toward the river. She paused and allowed the group to stand in silence for a moment. Wither imagined they were all thinking the same thing.

When Elleca turned back around again she had the same look on her face that Wither saw when he reached down to heal her wounded leg. "Maybe we shouldn't rely on Wither's fury. I mean, it's helpful and all, but doesn't anyone else remember that Yarrow forbade Wither from using it while we were in Warfang? He thought the power was dark magic and that it could corrupt Wither if he used it too much. And as strong as it is, I can't see how it's not dark magic. You don't get power like that without a devastating price. We need to be sensible."

"That's rich coming from you," said Psy with a sly smirk. "Since when has it ever been your style to be sensible?"

Elleca met Psy's gaze a cool glare and opened her mouth for a retort, but then Psy's humorous air evaporated and he said in a voice that was none too joking, "You're right, though. I'm glad we're alive and all, but I'd rather not force Wither to pull more than his own weight, which isn't even that much, to be honest."

"Thanks, Psy," said Wither. Psy gave him a wink and pointed a claw at him.

"We'll just have to be careful," said Wylee finally. "The scrublands stretch all the way from the coast to the Burned Lands, so there's no alternative route. If we wait until evening to cross the Roh, we can cut through the scrublands at night. This should hide us from anyone or anything that may be watching the plains."

That settled the argument and concluded their plans for the day. After breaking from their huddle everyone went hunting for food. They returned to the campsite with a fawn and together, though mostly at Wylee's insistence, they made a fire. After one of the deer's legs was skinned and prepared Wylee was finally able to eat his meal, though the dragons had long since finished their food, as they were not so particular about its condition on the way down their gullets.

Wylee doused the fire with dirt and leaned back on the fallen tree at the edge of camp. Following his example, everyone else spent the next couple hours recovering what little sleep they had missed out on. Only Elleca stayed awake to watch over the group since she was feeling energized enough with the sleep she'd gotten. When the sun was low on the western horizon she woke everyone and together they made their way through the trees.

The Roh River was narrower here than most places but even so, it was nearly half a mile across. Luckily, all Wither had to do was glide up into the air to get a good view of the surrounding area. Once he felt he could accurately picture the space between the shores in his mind, Wither touched back down next to the others and shifted them across.

Once on the northern shore they stared out across the plains that stretched away into the horizon. All that lay between them were a few stunted trees scattered here and there and dry brush. The walk was long and tiresome. The lack of scenery made the trek seem even bleaker than it ought to have been. The only somewhat distinguishable land marks were the few trees that managed to reach just past Wylee's head.

However, despite their boredom and the weariness that the trip exerted upon them, the journey was actually uneventful. The darkness hid the tree line of the Sage Wood until they were close enough for the treetops to blot out the first rays of dawn. Eager to bring an end to what had to be the most mind and foot numbing stretch of their quest, they trudged just past the trees and flopped down, ready for sleep.

After a brief debate over who should get first watch, Psy sat at the edge of camp pricking himself with his claws to keep himself from falling asleep while the rest of the group enjoyed a hard earned rest.

Wither awoke some time later to Wylee's hand upon his shoulder. Wylee informed him that Elleca was the last one to take a shift after him before lying down and promptly falling asleep.

Once Wither was certain he could hear Wylee's breathing was more rhythmic, he let out a quiet sigh, for he had been tense and holding his breath somewhat. Quietly, he whispered into the morning air. "Nobody?"

" **Yes?"**

"I need someone to keep me awake."

" **Of course. Is there anything in particular you wish to talk about?"**

Wither thought for a moment. Out in the scrublands, he hadn't been able to speak with Nobody without attracting his friends' attention. And he couldn't focus on speaking with Nobody with his thoughts because he had needed to pay attention to his friends' conversation while they spoke with him to pass the time.

Now that Wither was somewhat alone, he thought about what he could talk with Nobody about. It wasn't like Nobody had any hobbies. They had no body. And since Nobody had never been able to speak with anyone before Wither, they hadn't had any interaction with anyone before. This made Nobody seem even less real than the inherent fact that they weren't, in fact, real. They had no culture, no background, no frame of reference to pull from or experiences that made them relatable in any way. They were an enigma.

Then Wither had a thought. He looked up into the sky past the trees to a kite dive after some insects. "You've always never been, you say? Then that must mean you know how all of this came to be. It's a question everyone has agonized over for thousands of years. How did everything begin?"

Silence was Wither's only answer. He waited for Nobody to answer for several long seconds, and was about to ask for them when they finally spoke.

" **Creation is the opposite of nothing. It's a bit like light or heat. Darkness is merely the absence of light, and cold the absence of heat. Nothing is merely absence itself. Before the beginning, there was me and nothing else. The whole universe would have appeared just as the Void does. But then, out of the endless fathoms of eternity, there suddenly Was."**

"What was it?" asked Wither.

" **It just Was. Pure and unrefined. It was everything. It surprised me. I had been all alone since the uncanny horizon beyond time. And then, there Was."**

"I don't understand. How did it happen? What form did it take?"

" **It just Was. It emerged into being from nowhere. At first, it took a form I cannot convey to you in such a manner that you would comprehend it. But then it grew denser. It multiplied. And then it spread. It pushed back the Void around it, and pressed it in on itself where there Was. And it still grows to this day. Pushing and pressing on me."**

Wither looked down from the sky and looked out at the scrublands through the trees. "You sound upset."

" **The invasion was unpleasant for me. Your world and everything in it is my antithesis. It is inside me, on top of me, and around me. It did not ask for permission to be. It is, to me, a growth that I cannot hope to be free from."**

Wither looked down from the scrublands to the dirt at his feet. "I'm…sorry to hear that. I didn't realize that you found existence undesirable. This world and everything within it, it's all I've ever known. It's everything to me. It means everything to me. I suppose a concept like that might be difficult for someone like you to understand."

"Wither?"

Wither whirled around. Not ten paces away, Elleca stood staring at him with a questioning gaze. "Elleca, you scared me," said Wither as quietly as he could.

Elleca took a few more steps forward and looked around. "Who are you talking to?"

"I was just talking to myself. It helps me think sometimes. Plus, it helps to pass the time and keep me awake."

Elleca looked Wither over for a moment before stepping forward and settling down next to him. "Yeah, I know what you mean. I hate these watches. I mean, being a lightning dragon, I don't need quite as much sleep as the rest of you, but that's not the point. It gets boring just sitting around and watching everyone sleep."

Wither turned to face Elleca. She was staring off into the scrublands to the south, a thoughtful expression on her face. "What are you doing up anyway? Shouldn't you be asleep like the others?"

Elleca grinned and shook her head. "If only it were that easy. Truth be told, I'm having a hard time getting to sleep out here, too. It's lonely. I mean, I know I have all of you around, but I just get depressed when everyone else is trying to sleep. Because then I have to be quiet and then it's just me with my thoughts. And all I have to think about is how tomorrow is going to be another day of perilous and possibly boring journeying.

"And I get that I didn't have to come along and that I chose to go with you and the others, but I couldn't stay behind. I knew Roxy and everyone else would be going. I just couldn't stay behind in Warfang and get left out. But I miss Roxy. I wish I could have gone with him. Wylee's turned out to be a great friend to me, but no one can replace Roxy. He's slow and dumb and heavy and says stupid things without thinking, but he's always been there with me. He is the only constant in my life. The one thing I can always count on to be there. At least that's what I've always thought.

"Now it's different. Things are different. The world is more dangerous and I've gotten a little older and a little wiser, and now I know that he's not always going to be there. And with all that's been going on, I just don't know—"

Wither looked sideways and saw that Elleca was crying now. The sight shocked him. He had never seen her lose her composure before now. She took a shaky breath and continued. "I just have no way of knowing. He's so far away now and I don't know how he's doing. I don't know if he's hurt. I don't know if he's even alive. And the thought of him possibly… And the thought of him suddenly not being there after always being there just makes me feel so alone."

Then she started to sob. She did it quietly, whether as a courtesy to their sleeping friends several yards away, or out of a desire to hold the hurt in. But still, she could not dam the flow of tears enough to hide them from Wither.

In that moment Wither realized that what Elleca had described was exactly how he felt when Yarrow had died. His lifelong friend, who had taught him and raised him and done nearly everything with him was taken away, and the hole it left inside him made him feel all alone. But then, when he was buried deep within the depths of despair, Elleca had come to him and shown him the compassion he needed to rise up and find new purpose, to strive to find a way to fill the hole, though it had seemed impossible at the time.

Wither hesitated for a second then he unfurled his wings and folded his right one around Elleca, drawing her into his arms. She leaned into his embrace and wept into his chest, and he held her as he stared out into the scrublands, allowing the salty rivulets to run down his body.

They sat together like that for nearly ten minutes by Wither's reckoning. While Elleca spent the rest of her emotional turmoil into Wither's scales, he wrapped his tail around hers and rubbed her back with one paw and the top of her head with the other. At last, when Elleca sniffed and pulled back enough to wipe her face Wither broke the silence. "He's fine. He will be fine. Ignitus said that each of you share a part in saving the world with me. It is written into ancient prophecy. His time has not yet come. Of that, you can be certain. You will see Roxy again."

Elleca looked up at Wither before rising up to her natural height. Since Wither was runty she was just a tad taller than him despite the fact that she was a dragoness. She gave him a smile and bent down to kiss him on the cheek. "Thank you, Wither. You always know what to say."

She got up and walked back toward her resting place. Wither watched her go. She looked back at him once for a moment, then turned and lay down on the mossy patch she had selected. Wither waited several minutes for her to fall asleep again. After a bit he looked back out over the scrublands.

" **Quick thinking, Wither. She almost caught you there. You're a pretty good liar."**

Wither felt the beginnings of a smirk tweak the corners of his mouth, but then they fell and he allowed a slight frown of puzzlement wrinkle his brow. "No. I'm not. I've always been a terrible liar. But she bought it anyway."

" **You must finally be gaining some proficiency in it. A good thing, too. It's a terribly useful skill to have."**

Wither allowed the smile to return and said, "Can't argue with that. I must be better than I thought at it. Elleca's usually pretty darn insightful."

" **She was preoccupied with other thoughts. Perhaps she would have done better at seeing through you had she been more focused. You did a splendid job cheering her up by the way."**

"She did it for me once," said Wither as he glanced back at Elleca to make sure she wasn't sneaking up on him again. "Besides, she's a friend."

" **A very good friend, I imagine. And pretty, too."**

Wither felt heat color his face and looked around, wishing he could have some sort of avatar for Nobody so he could speak to their face. "She's a friend. Just a friend."

" **Of course. Though, it's no surprise she catches your eye. She's strong, confident, nubile. There's a touch of the intellectual within her as well. She's got it all. Perhaps she wins no prizes for first place, but she could come in second in any competition easy. You know what that makes her? The standard. Being second best at everything makes you much better than being first at just one or two things."**

Wither peered sideways, vainly attempting to avoid eye contact out of habit. Though such social gestures were impossible with Nobody. "She is attractive, I'll admit, but she has Roxy to keep her happy. Besides, I've always rather fancied…"

" **That Renna girl? And why is that, might I ask? Is it because she's a light dragon? Because that makes her rare and powerful? It's no secret that dragons are naturally attracted to power. Or is it because she's beautiful? Which, again, let's be honest, is simply because she's a light dragon, and that makes her coloration and marking the most striking that you'll find in your lifetime. As a light dragon, she's definitely coming in first place ahead of Elleca in power and looks. I'll say that much."**

Wither considered Nobody's words. He had never given it a great deal of thought. The subject was one that he had always tried to avoid. But now Nobody seemed to be making valid points. Was his attraction mere infatuation? A shallow interest in Renna's magical element and physical appearance? No, there had to be more to it than that. He just needed to start thinking about it more seriously and something would come to him.

In the meantime Wither looked up and said, "Elleca and Roxy are both my friends. They have always been together. I couldn't do anything that would hurt Roxy and possibly Elleca in the long run. And I imagine Renna would be upset too if I took more of an interest in Elleca. I'm pretty sure they've fought over me before."

" **If Elleca is willing to fight for you, how important could this Roxy fellow be to her? I imagine they're friends. Best friends, even. Just as you and Renna are. They share many treasured memories, but that doesn't necessarily make them a pair."**

"I don't know…" said Wither. It started to occur to him how odd it was that Nobody even cared who he took an interest in, but before he could voice this thought Nobody spoke again.

" **She fancies you, you know."**

Wither swallowed.

" **Don't tell me you've already forgotten that wonderful memory of how she brought you back from the brink of despair. And now you've just returned the favor. The two of you have a connection. It is undeniable. I'm in your heart, Wither. I know all that you desire. And believe you me, there's electricity between you. But by all means, sleep alone tonight. Self control is a valuable skill to practice, too, albeit a rewardless one in present circumstances."**

Wither looked back at Elleca, saw her sleek, slender form stretched out on the ground. Her back was arched in a posture that seemed almost inviting. The heart shaped impurity on her flank winked at him in the starlight as she adjusted in her sleep.

" **She would welcome you."**

Nobody was whispering at the edges of Wither's mind now, prodding him along with goading enticements.

" **She wants you as bad as you want her. Just go to her. Why deny yourself the pleasure? You deserve to get what you want."**

Wither inhaled deeply and looked away from Elleca, shaking his head to clear the intoxicating fantasies that danced before his mind's eye. "No. I…I need time to think. Leave me be, Nobody. I need to finish my watch in peace."

" **Of course, Wither. As you wish."**

Wither completed his watch and woke Elleca when he was ready for her to take his place. She peered up at him with bloodshot eyes and stretched slowly on her side on the ground before him, letting out a great yawn. Then she stood and looked at Wither with a half smile and walked past him toward the edge of the campsite where he had been sitting. The small amount of rest that he managed to acquire did little to perk Wither up from yesterday's exertions. His legs were still a little sore from running away from the spiders for so long two nights ago. And now he was beginning to feel the lack of sleep a bit more. His thoughts were sluggish, hazier, and his head felt heavy.

Still Wither managed to rise with the rest of his friends. It was several hours after high sun and his stomach gurgled expectantly. "We need to find ourselves some game, I would say," said Wylee as he shouldered his pack and looked off between the trees to the north. "Think we'll find something along the way?"

"Tracks, maybe," said Wither. "We could follow them to a decent meal."

"All right, let's do it," said Elleca as she held her belly with one paw. "I'm starving over here."

They set off then, journeying deeper into the Sage Wood. As they delved further into the massive forest things began to change. The trees grew thicker and taller, and the foliage on the ground became denser with each passing step. After only a short while Wylee had to pull out his staff and use the blade end to cut a path for them. The going was slow, and their progress made a great deal of noise. No creature in its right mind would come anywhere near them at this rate, which meant that food was going to be hard to come by. After an hour or so of hacking away at ferns, thorns, and saplings Wylee sat down on a half rotten log to catch his breath. "I fear that meat is in short supply right now, but for those of you willing to give it a try, here are some berries. I know I'm happy for them."

Wylee began to pick the black polyps from the bush in the path he'd been carving and began to have himself a snack. Though the dragons were not keen on subsisting on berries alone they would have to do until they found something more substantial. Between the lot of them they stripped the bush Wylee found and another one hidden behind it clean. A quick search revealed no other bushes bearing the tiny yet delightful fruit in the immediate area. So they continued on at the dogged pace of one slogging through knee high mud.

In the thick of the forest everything was different. Twilight came early and it started to become dark long before it should. "So much for staying lighter at night," said Psy in Wither's ear as they continued on several feet behind Wylee.

The cheetah hacked another particularly rubbery sapling out of the way and turned to face them. "The canopy is massive. It blocks out most of the sunlight. But at night Sage Wood changes, so say the travelers I've met who've been through here before. I guess we'll find out together whether the stories are true."

The stories did prove true, as luck would have it. Though the sun should have set long before, the dim twilight of the forest never truly faded. Instead, everything took on a ghostly blue tint that radiated from the leaves above, as well as the various fungi below. When they stopped for yet another break Wylee looked around in wonder and exhaustion. "It's beautiful," he said, though his voice was monotone and his eyes were unable to focus on anything in particular. They had gone the whole day without finding any more food than the two berry bushes hours before.

He fell against a tree and slid down to the cool earth where he undid his pack and rooted around for a bit. Finally, he pulled out five bars wrapped in oilskin and passed them out, giving each of them one. "Eat. They're full of protein and other highly important nutrients. I had hoped to save them as long as I could, but it would seem we've need of them now."

"What is it?" said Psy as he gave his a sniff and a wary glace.

"They're made with lots of stuff," said Wylee as he bit into his. "One of these will keep a cheetah going strong for an entire day. I imagine they'll work great on dragons, too. That's why I packed ten of them. After this we'll have enough for one other meal in a pinch."

"Wylee, you're a genius," said Elleca as she bit off half of hers and chewed it up.

"Why thank you, Elleca. That's what everyone tells me, but it's still nice to hear it every once in a while."

Wither bit into his too and chewed. It tasted unlike anything he had ever eaten before. It was fruity, salty, fishy, and meaty at the same time. It was also incredibly dry and tough. The experience left him thirsty and rubbing his jaws. He walked several paces toward the creek they had stopped by and took several long draughts before coming up for air. Twenty minutes later his fatigue vanished like magic and he felt supercharged and ready to power through the forest for the rest of the night.

They continued to plow through the dense underbrush until Wylee stopped and turned to stare between the trees off to the left of the path they were making. His ears twitched upward, and he suddenly went still and silent. Wither and the rest of the dragons caught on to Wylee's behavior instantly and also went still.

Wither inched toward Wylee and placed his maw just below his shoulder. "What is it?"

Wylee's ears twitched again, and he refocused them toward the trees. "There's something there," he said.

Wither looked again. The trees were too thick to get a proper look at anything much further than a few feet away. Though he knew better than to ignore Wylee's sensitive hearing. Slowly, Wither whispered more to himself than to any of his friends. "Nobody."

"No," said Wylee, mistaking Wither's meaning. "There's something close, for sure."

" **Do you need my assistance?"**

"I don't think so," said Wither, "but be ready just in case."

Wylee scowled down at Wither. "I'm telling you—"

At that moment the leaves parted as a figure lunged out of the brush and struck at lightning speed. Caught off guard as Wylee was, he would have certainly been hit had Wither not grabbed him by the ankle, turning the both of them transparent. The figure blurred straight through the both of them and disappeared into the trees on the right hand side of the path.

Elleca was beside them in an instant, her body crackling as streams of electricity played all over the surface of her scales. If whatever had just attacked struck at her, it would not be pleased with the repercussions. "Did you see that thing?" She had a smirk on her face that made her seem even more ethereal in the light of the Sage Wood and the dancing energy that wreathed her form. "Quick, isn't? But not quick enough."

It lunged again, this time striking at Elleca. A howl filled the air and the beast came down twitching and writhing as Elleca's body struck back at it. However, Elleca went down, too. When she picked herself up, she had a gash on her cheek. She had a furious expression as she rose up and flicked her tail. The tiny whips at the end sparked, and she whirled around to slap the still twitching creature with her tail. The air buzzed and a bright flash of light followed immediately by a deafening thunder clap filled the air. Elleca flicked her tail again and the whips ceased their sparking.

They all stared down at the assailant. It was like a wolf, but its anatomy suggested that it worked well both on all fours and on two legs. It was roughly Wylee's size and even had the opposable thumbs of a biped, but it wore no clothing and the face clearly belonged to something cruel and feral. It had antlers much like a buck and its feet were avian in appearance. There was a black, smoking section of its body devoid of fur where Elleca had struck it in the side. It was unquestionably dead. Nothing survived when Elleca attacked with her tail whips. The discharge was beyond lethal.

Elleca wiped the blood from her cheek and stuck her nose up at the thing. "Serves it right. If I wasn't so fast it would have torn my throat out. Lucky me, eh?"

Wither let go of Wylee and they both phased back into existence. "Well, you took care of that one all right. Let's hope there aren't any more close by. They'll have heard the attack and come running."

At that moment several howls filled the twilight of Sage Wood. They came from all around. No matter which way Wylee turned his ears, he seemed on edge and unsure as to what they should do.

" **How about now?"**

"No," said Wither. "We can think of something."

" **Why bother? Just step over the edge and wipe them out. It'll be so much easier. You don't have to put your friends in any danger."**

Rustling and chattering could be heard in the bushes beyond. Yellowed eyes glinted in the half-light of the forest. Excited yips and angry squeals sounded just out of eyesight.

Wither looked to Wylee, Psy, Elleca, and Vera. Each of them had that look on their faces. It was the same look he had seen when they were running from the spiders. The situation was the same again. They were surrounded, outnumbered, and overpowered. There was only one solution. Wither set his shoulders and said in a strong, commanding voice, "Everyone, gather 'round. I'll protect you."

Wither reached out to Nobody and felt the edge of the abyss rush up to greet him. "Stop!"

A high pitched whine rose to a nearly inaudible sound before a short, extremely forced sound followed, and a section of the trees to the right of their path twenty yards wide and deep was blown back in a massive shock wave. More howls filled the air, though these were clearly wails of pain and fear. A hail storm of dirt, bodies, and trees was sent scattered through the forest like dust and tooth picks.

Wither allowed the edge to fall away and turned around to watch as someone materialized from the shadows behind them. They stood on two legs, whoever they were, and they were covered in a worn cloak that stretched to the forest floor, shrouding the entire figure. More of the wolf-like creatures sprung from the trees in the path ahead. The figure raised a hand and the creatures froze in midair. A snap of the fingers and they fell to the ground. The next second the figure stood between the creatures and Wither's party. The creatures rose to their feet and squealed as they saw the figure for the first time and scampered off into the trees.

After the forest fell into silence once more. Psy let out a whoop of glee and clapped his paws together. "Well done! Beautifully played. You have our eternal gratitude."

The figure turned to gaze sidelong at them from behind its cowled face. "These woods are dangerous. You should be more careful. You are lucky I was in the area and heard the wolpertingers attacking en masse. They don't typically do that, so I thought I'd have a look." Though Wither still couldn't see much of the figure, it clearly possessed a woman's voice.

Wylee stepped forward then and looked at the figure with nothing short of pure awe on his face. "How did you fight them off like that? It looked like magic. Powerful magic. Not even most of these dragons here could do what you just did. Who are you?"

The hooded figure stared at Wylee for a moment in silence before turning away. "Hmm, it's getting late. You should come with me. These woods are not kind to strangers. There are worse things than wolpertingers lurking about as of late. Things that are not from around here, and have not learned to fear me as the wolpertingers do." She turned then and walked away into the trees, seemingly melding into the leaves before disappearing rather than pushing through them.

Wither looked back at his friends. Psy appeared hopeful, and Wylee was still struck by power that the woman possessed, but Elleca and Vera looked skeptical. Then the woman called from the trees. "Dinner's on the fire. I have more than enough for everyone if you're interested. Or you can keep hacking your way through the trees until you find more danger. Your choice."

That cinched the matter for Psy who strolled through the ferns and gave a backward salute to the rest of his friends. I don't know about you guys, but I'm hungry and would love the company of someone who's so capable of watching our backs."

Wylee followed Psy almost dreamily and Wither came up behind him. He heard Elleca and Vera trudging up behind him and looked back. "What's the worst that could happen? If she wanted us dead, wouldn't she have already put up more of a fight?"

Elleca fell in step next to Wither and leaned in. "I don't know, Wither. I don't trust her. She's not a dragon and has insane magic. We should be careful."

Wither nodded and continued to walk with the rest of his friends as they followed the mysterious woman deeper into the woods.


	6. Chapter 6-Brave New World

Chapter 6-Brave New World

A chill traveled down Cass' spine as she watched the dawn spread its way toward Warfang from the eastern sky. The sun brought with it new warmth and helped to evaporate the dew of last night's condensation. It was the morning after the group of dragon younglings and their cheetah friend left the city. They had embarked on a mission of utmost importance, to seek counsel with the Chronicler and glean from his future sight the secret to Malefor's downfall, and by extension, the war.

Until this morning Cass had elected not to visit the surface. The dragons that surrounded the wall were fierce opponents that would not be overcome by anything but the most brutal of tactics and force. She also knew everything of the defenses currently placed around Warfang by her own people, the moles. Their science had blessed them with weapons of devastating power and devious design. Even the dragons knew not of all the mole-built technology that had been integrated into the city of Warfang slowly but surely each night over the course of a couple decades. Anything that somehow managed to break into Warfang would desperately wish it hadn't.

But still, it had given Cass pause when she was informed the previous night that Wither, son of the legendary Purple Dragon and the former Terror of the Skies, and Warfang's greatest defense was now absent. This left a gaping hole in the city's defenses. How long would it be until Malefor found out? What would he do when he did? There were certainly several times that an attack on Warfang would not have been repulsed without Wither's mysterious power to detract from the realm of reality.

So the question remained. How safe were they? An assessment of the city's ability to defend itself in Wither's absence needed to be made. And Cass was there on the eastern wall to make that assessment. If Warfang failed her standards then she would take an emergency pod to Mjölnir and persuade the lab chiefs to open the armories and unleash the full fury of the mole nation on their aggressors. Yes, the auto cannons and landmines had served the city well so far, but they were mere toys, installed long before the moles were so advanced, compared to what lay dormant far beneath Warfang in the highest security vaults.

The mole nation was one to worship the power of information. They did not wish to show their hand too soon in battle, lest the enemy become aware of what they truly faced and immediately up the ante to compensate. That would likely wheedle out the Dark Master himself, and potentially bring ruin on Warfang. For confident though they were in the power of their science, the moles did not forget the horrific power that Malefor had demonstrated during the last war. Dark times called for desperate measures, and nothing but the most extreme caution was prudent to employ.

Cass had been waiting with the dawn guard as the rest of the citizens awoke and performed their morning ablutions before making their way to the top of the wall for duty. With her cloak to help shield her from the morning chill and oculars to protect her eyes from the harsh light of the sun on the surface none of the other moles had put much consideration into her presence. She wanted to blend in with the rest of the moles on guard well enough not to attract too much attention, for if they knew who she was they would not behave as they normally did.

Now that the sun was rising, Field Commander Magnus climbed up the steps and let out a long, slow breath as he did some stretches to loosen his sleep stiffened muscles. A few moles along the wall offered him a respectful salute; others preferred a casual nod of acknowledgement in his direction accompanied with a gruff welcome back. As the commander trudged over toward his typical station he turned and regarded Cass for a moment before coming to a halt. Magnus looked around and appeared to give a head count for several seconds. He turned and looked at Cass again with what she assumed was a skeptical gaze behind his oculars.

 _Figures,_ Cass thought. After spending so much time up here with his troops, Magnus ought to know them all by now. At a glance, he knew she was out of place. Cass looked around for a moment to make sure no one else was looking before turning to Magnus once more and pulling her cloak back a bit, just enough to reveal the sheen of white fur that lay hidden underneath.

The Field Commander immediately looked around again to make certain his troops weren't paying him any attention before giving Cass a discreet bow. He then turned away and settled down at his favored position for observing the enemy lines during the day.

The cheetahs came next, followed by the dragons. The wall was rather crowded by the time the sun itself began to peek over the horizon. And that's when the air at the edge of the field shimmered like a summer heat haze. The air all around began to buzz and everyone tensed and straightened, waiting for the first troops to show themselves. However, nothing emerged. Instead, the Dark Master chose to speak. What he said filled Cass' heart with dread and her mind with clamoring questions.

"Ah, another day. I bet you're all ready to watch as my armies dash themselves against your so called defenses while you all sit safe and cozy at the top of that wall you surround your homes with. I bet you're wondering who will die today and how many shall fall while I try in vain to persuade Wither to leave the protective walls of your little city. I bet you're hoping to buy as much time as you can, pitting yourselves against my forces under the pretext of defending him, thinking I don't know he's no longer in Warfang."

Everywhere people were muttering amongst themselves the very same questions that Cass was asking herself. _"How does he know?"_

These questions were cut off when he continued his address. "As I mentioned a couple days ago, I tire of these games. No more games. Now that the Void King no longer protects you, I'm finally ready to get serious."

The air vibrated for a moment and Malefor spoke once more. "War, tell the apes to power up the mine crawler. Famine, send in the golems. Death, the time has come to release the Phantasmagorian. And Pestilence, you know what to do."

Then the air around the wall went still, and all was silent for a moment. After a few seconds one of the moles asked, "Did he say golems? With an s?"

"We can't hold off multiple golems at once," another said in response.

"And what was all that other stuff they're sending in on the other sides?"

Magnus climbed atop the battlement where he sat and raised his voice above the clamor. "We shall not allow panic to overtake us. Whatever the Dark Master sends our way, we shall overcome it."

Cass watched as the shimmering area at the edge of the field behind him widened and three golems emerged from the breach. Magnus turned around and beheld the sight of the magma lit titans resting their eyes on the city and beginning their thundering advance. He raised his walkie talkie to his mouth and spoke. "This is Field Commander Magnus of the eastern line to Warfang Control. Alert the chiefs. The time has come to open the vaults."

Magnus jumped down and ran to Cass throwing all subtlety aside. "Get down to Mjölnir. They'll want your input no doubt. They won't open the vaults on my say so alone. Or any of the other commanders for that matter. They'll listen to you, though. Make haste, Miss Cass! We'll hold them off while they open the armories."

Magnus then turned around as dragons all along the wall took flight and soared out into the field to swarm the golems. The commander spoke into his walkie talkie again, shouting orders to activate the concealed ground to air missiles. By this time Cass was running, her kinetic boots taking her across the wall toward the nearest stairs fast as a cheetah. Out in the field scores of patches of raised ground were erupting from the earth to reveal angled metal cylinders pointing out away from the city.

Deafening roars soon followed as the launch tubes released their payload and high pitched whistles screamed through the air. Concussive booms filled the air as the missiles made contact and blew massive chunks of earth and stone from the bodies of the juggernauts. The first salvo reduced one of the beasts to rubble. The second shattered the arms and legs of the other two, making them easy pickings for the dragons who had backed off for the assault, but now dove back in to finish the job.

But just as roars of victory filled the wall, the air shimmered and four more golems emerged from the breach. True to his word, Malefor wasn't pulling any punches. The war had truly begun. The missile tubes installed all the way around the city were only good for four salvos. The other two were spent, crippling three of the new golems and blowing the head off the other with a lucky shot.

Still the breach shimmered and another golem emerged. This one looked different from the others. Rather than possessing four legs and two arms, it had four appendages upon which it walked, with a small spherical orb in the center. It swept the field, collecting the rubble from those that had preceded it and absorbing their remains into its arms. Much of the mass traveled down the limbs and into the sphere at the center until it grew to something that was easily a quarter the size of the great Destroyer that had ravaged the land twenty years ago. Colossal as that doomsday beast had been, this golem was roughly five times taller than the wall and cast the entire eastern perimeter into shadow.

By now Cass had reached the stairs and was bolting down into the city. The thrum of wing beats filled her ears and she looked up in time to see Spyro soar overhead, his entire body wreathed in darkness. Seconds later a blinding flash whited out the sky, overwhelming her polarized oculars, and the whole world vibrated and shook around her. Cass' teeth rattled with the explosion's ferocity, and her eardrums popped, draining all sound from the world save a ringing that was accompanied by a wetness in the fur around her ears.

She stumbled and fell to the ground as it lurched violently beneath her, unable to keep her balance, but was on her feet immediately, running blindly through the city outskirts, ducking into narrow alleys between buildings and feeling the walls for support. She could feel thumping around her and blinked the fire in her eyes away to see what was happening. After a few seconds to regain some of her senses, she could make out that a hail storm of burning debris that she could only assume was the wreckage of the colossus was raining down on the city in a meteor shower. She looked on in shock for a moment before commanding her legs to move once more.

Finally, she reached a dead end in one of the alleys and slammed a fist into one of the bricks. Rather than crushing her fingers, the false stone gave way and the wall before her opened to reveal a cylinder large enough for no more than three or four moles. She ran inside and tapped the control panel on the side. The doors closed and the cylinder dropped down through a tube in a straight shot. Thirty seconds later it slowed briefly before coming to a rather jarring halt.

She was out as soon as the doors opened, but had to stop. She fell back against the rock wall and slid to the ground, removing her oculars and rubbing at her eyes. Everything was dark and silent. Her eyes ought to work perfectly down here in the tunnels, but the flash outside was still blotting out her world. And everything was still ringing. She removed her oculars and touched at her ears, her fingers came away wet, and she knew that her eardrums had burst. That was an easy fix. Once in Mjölnir's medical facility, the doctors would be able to repair them nearly instantaneously. But the matter of her eyesight was a problem of more pressing concern. She needed to get to Mjölnir as quickly as possible, but she couldn't see to get back. She would have to wait in the darkness of the tunnel until her sight returned. If it did.

No, it would. Even if the doctors had to repair her eyes, too. She was not permanently blinded. She was not afraid of that. Science would see to that. What mattered now was that time was against her. Though she hated every second of it, Cass waited in the darkness until she was able to make out shapes and lights. Eventually, the blurred images focused enough that she was able to lean down and inspect the walls of the tunnels properly.

Based on a few quick observations, the rock composition and the layout of the branching tunnels told her that she was in sector five. She made the appropriate calculations and was off through the labyrinthine network, each footfall a dull throb in her skull. In five minutes time she reached the main access tunnels and was able to reach the cavern that housed Mjölnir. Her boots expedited the trek across the cavern to the base of the plateau on which Mjölnir rested. The elevator ride up was agonizing. She glanced down at the time piece around her wrist. It had been nearly thirty minutes since she fled the wall.

She dashed through the doors, through the florescent red lighting of the city and toward the building that housed Warfang Control. That's where many of the chiefs would no doubt be. When she arrived she burst through the doors that led to the control room. A member of the staff turned away from a wall filled with screens showing the perimeter around Warfang and pointed toward the door, appearing to tell her to get out, but when he saw who she was, he turned and spoke to some of the chiefs huddled at the table in the center of the room.

Everyone looked up then. Most of the chiefs rose from their seats, but Onyx was the first and rushed over to Cass. He spoke urgently to her, but she merely pointed toward her ears and made vague gestures to indicate misunderstanding. He made more pointing gestures to some of the staff and someone left the room. Onyx clasped Cass' hand in both of his and looked sorrowfully at her. Though she couldn't hear him she could tell that he made a comment about her poor beautiful fur.

A couple minutes later a doctor in a white coat entered the room and sat down at the chiefs' table, patting the chair next to hers for Cass to sit in. The doctor opened a small briefcase and brought out a pair of white latex gloves, which she put on, followed by a bottle of rubbing alcohol and a cotton ball. She applied the alcohol to the swab and took Cass' left arm, pulling back the pearly white fur to dab at her skin for a moment. She then put the alcohol and cotton away and pulled out a syringe no bigger than a thimble. It was filled with a silvery substance that Cass immediately recognized and was grateful for. The doctor pricked her and removed the needle, then sat back and removed her gloves, throwing them, the cotton, and the syringe in a sealed segment of the case before fastening the latches.

The doctor bowed to Cass and walked away, leaving the room. Everyone sat around in silence for a moment while the nanite solution worked its way through her system, detected the abnormalities, and repaired them. Her ears and eyes itched terribly for a couple seconds once the solution started its work, but it was all over in just a few heartbeats. The room became sharper and the ringing was replaced by the sounds of the world around her once more. She blinked her eyes a few times and worked her jaws to rub the inside of her ears before giving the thumbs up and saying, "I think it's done now."

Onyx let go of Cass' hands and slowly leaned back in his chair. He took a deep breath as he swiveled toward the monitors that showed the perimeter around Warfang. "Malefor has been holding back."

It was a simple statement, and an obvious one, but nonetheless its power hung in the air in the silence that followed it. He took another deep breath and spoke again. He sounded tired. "All three sides of the enemy forces have something dreadful. Or all of them did, that is. Spyro obliterated that amalgam of golems, though the cost of doing so was great. You were shielded by the walls of the city and still you were blinded and deafened by the explosion. The others nearby on the wall were even less fortunate.

"We are preparing to mobilize medical teams to brave the surface long enough to treat the wounded with a nanite solution. It should be relatively safe. Nothing has emerged from the eastern breach since Spyro took out that titan. However, the wounded in the east are still the least of our concerns.

"The city is still besieged by two terrors in equal proportions to the one that Spyro felled. Look."

Onyx pointed to the monitors and Cass observed a monstrous creature like something straight out of a nightmare trying to swat a dragon that circled it, which looked like nothing more than a mosquito by comparison. "That," said Onyx, "is Cynder. She has kept the thing there distracted to prevent it from advancing on the city, but it is only a matter of time before she tires and it arrives.

"No attack made on it has any lasting effects. Not even the devastating power of the great Black Dragon. It regenerates much too quickly, and curiously it appears to possess some sort of electrical field that blocks most attacks, merely dulling more powerful ones so as to be rendered ineffective. This Phantasmagorian, as Malefor called it, is possibly more dangerous than the golem that Spyro destroyed.

"That said, we cannot rely on Spyro to participate in yet another grueling battle until he has had some rest. He has already done his part today."

Now Onyx's eyes dropped to the floor. Cass waited for the rest; there was more to be said, and whatever it was it wasn't going to be pretty. "Now, normally the Phantasmagorian, we would let go. It would be a shame to see it ravage Warfang, but chances are it would not be able to find its way to Mjölnir."

Cass' eyes widened as she realized what Onyx was saying. The Chief of Ebon Labs continued. "It doesn't know we're down here, unless Zar told it of our existence. And even if it did, monstrous though it may be, it does not seem suited for digging, and it would need to do much of that to reach us here.

"However, the southern terror is something that gives us pause. A mechanism created by our brethren, the Manweersmalls. Mole Yair and Ex Humor have briefed us on its capabilities. The mine crawler is an immense tunneling machine. And the thing about that is—they can get to us here. Right now the apes piloting it are distracted by the southern forces, but we think it means to dig under Warfang and attack us here to take out the city's mechanical defenses. And that, we cannot allow."

Cass rose to her feet and stood tall over the chiefs sitting in their chairs. "Then it sounds like you all know what needs to be done. Open the vaults."

Corbal cleared his voice then and said, "We have yet to reach a complete consensus, but—"

"I don't care about your stupid consensus!" Cass took off her goggles and threw her cloak aside, baring the white fur of her body and staring the chiefs down with her pink eyes. "If you won't come to your senses and take action in a timely manner, then I'll take charge of Mjölnir until this war is over. We've already wasted enough time as it is."

Planck, the Chief of Tera Labs pounded a fist on the war table and said, "You wouldn't dare."

Cass pointed at Planck and said, "I am the Marked. It would be within my right. Look at me and see. I possess the white fur and pink eyes of the albino. It was my father whose team of excavators uncovered the Arcane Atrium on the Day of the Advent. It was my father who was touched by the power of the Spark of Science on that day through the door that seals it away. It was he who was a desolate man until he and my mother conceived me not long after.

"I am the living embodiment of the blessings that the Spark of Science has bestowed upon our people. And now I say that in the name of defending what we have created here and all that we love, the time has come to open the vaults. To challenge me is to challenge the Spark of Science. Would you defy logic and reason? Or will you stand with me against our foes?"

The majority of the chiefs remained silent. However, Onyx rose to his feet and smoothed the wrinkles out of his coat. "I'm in. Leuko, do we have Photo Lab's support?"

The chief of Photo Labs stood slowly, appearing to give the matter a few last second thoughts before shaking his head. "I don't see how we can hold it off any longer. Photo Labs will open its vault."

Onyx looked around the table. "Corbal, think where we'd be if you hadn't stepped up and used the Polarion when the Reconciler destroyed the column. Surely you are aware of the necessity for action."

Corbal nodded once and after a moment's consideration, gently placed his hands on the table, fingers splayed out. "Cryo Labs will open its vault."

After gaining the third chief's consent, more began to follow suit, recognizing the popular vote. Cass allowed her commanding demeanor to diminish and watched as the lab chiefs, leaders of the mole nation, rose from the war table and slowly walked out of the room to unleash Mjölnir's most powerful weapons. When the room was cleared except for the moles manning the monitors and taking orders from the commanders around Warfang, Cass turned to Onyx.

"Thank you for your help. I was afraid that I really was going to have to take over."

"They would have resented you for it," said Onyx with a sniff. "It's better this way. We need order, and the chiefs have represented that to our people ever since the Day of the Advent. You know how the system works. We each head a lab dedicated to learning the secrets of the magical elements displayed by the different subspecies of dragons so that we may use the knowledge to create new and more powerful methods of wielding that energy. The labs are separate so as to compartmentalize our knowledge in the event that some of our research is ever compromised, though we do work together on larger projects that require us to pool our knowledge.

"You are not representative of the order we chiefs bring. You are a reflection of the hope, life, and prosperity that the Spark of Science has brought our people. That is what you mean to the mole nation. They would follow you if you asked them to, but that is not your path, I believe."

"My path?" Cass crossed her arms and stared sidelong at Onyx. "You sound like the dragons, saying that nonsense."

Onyx clasped his hands behind his back and began to walk toward the door. "Perhaps that is so. But then, I have always held some of their philosophies in high esteem. Simple creatures though they may be, theirs is a primal wisdom. It is as though they are closer to nature than we shall ever be again."

"So you don't resent them, then?"

Onyx stopped in the doorway and looked over his shoulder. "Why? Whatever for?"

Cass pointed an accusing finger at Onyx. "Don't you play dumb with me. You know good and well what for. For what their kind did to ours."

Onyx sighed and waved a tired paw over his should as he continued down the hall, his voice disappearing with him. "Really now, Cass. That's all ancient history."

Cass listened as Onyx's footsteps faded away and the members of Warfang command responded to the frantic orders of the commanders around Warfang's wall. "History has a way of repeating itself."

XXX

" _The time has come."_ A million eyes swiveled with Alabaster's as he gazed at the door. For over four months now he had kept himself prisoner inside his own private lab in sublevel nine of Aero Labs. During that time he had kept himself busy by meditating with the horde. Their collective mind was a glory to be a part of, and he relished every moment of his time with them, not only observing but also taking part in thousands of tasks with them simultaneously.

It was remarkable to watch as Helix began to grow and change, undergoing a most magnificent metamorphosis and shaping the Creator's kingdom with his very being. Alabaster would sit for hours with his eyes wide, staring at the wall of his lab, the starry heavens above, the arching lightning and fields of crystal, the royal chamber of the Creator in the castle that dominated those fields, sandy dunes, grassy plains, and many others sights all at once. He would laugh with delight as he felt Helix's body transform while it grew. Everything was going according to plan. Every piece of the Phylum was where they needed to be at all times doing exactly what they needed to be, the pinnacle of efficiency. And now, it was time for him to play his role.

Alabaster rose to his feet, walked to the door, and opened it with his keycard. He walked down the hallway, passing two sublevel nine technicians along the way. They halted their conversation and stopped walking when they saw him. "Goodness, Alabaster. Is that you? I never thought you'd come out of your private lab. What excellent timing, too. Word is the rest of the chiefs have convened to deliberate on whether they should open the vaults."

Alabaster looked the technicians up and down through his oculars. "Thank you for the update, lads. I'll be topside for a little while. You've been doing a fantastic job of running the place. Keep up the good work."

They saluted their chief and kept walking while Alabaster took the elevator up past sublevel one of Aero Labs. The doors opened and Alabaster stepped out into the lobby above the labs. He walked past the secretaries to the data management team that used the building as their headquarters and toward the stairs leading to the catwalks above.

One of the secretaries looked up and noticed his passing and rose from her chair to give a salute. "Chief Alabaster. It's a pleasure to see you, sir. Do you need anything?"

Alabaster held up a hand in a lazy wave and kept on walking. "Thanks but no thanks, Arachne. I'm heading out right now."

The secretary wished him a wonderful day and returned to her duties while Alabaster ascended to the catwalks and followed a circuitous path on the second floor to a skywalk that led to the adjacent building. The walk would have been a confusing one for someone unaccustomed to the labyrinthine network of tunnels connecting Mjölnir's above ground infrastructure, but Alabaster knew the way.

After ten minutes time he reached the building that contained the offices of Warfang Control. That's where all the defensive and observational machinery scattered around Warfang was monitored and operated. It was the perfect place to hold a war council, the rest of the chiefs would no doubt be inside.

Alabaster looked around for a moment, his ears focusing on the slightest noises, picking up vibrations from several rooms over. Ah, yes. The other chiefs were here. He could pick up their words as they spoke to someone. "Get a nurse in here with a dose of nanite solution."

That was Onyx's voice. Alabaster leapt up and latched onto the ceiling, pulling the grate off of the air duct to crawl inside. He popped the grate back on and slid through the ventilation system as quietly as possible. His every movement was precisely calculated so as to prevent the slightest pop or scrape against the metal, which would give his position away to anyone nearby. The vibrations all around the building were stronger here. Every room was connected to the web of tunnels he now slunk through with predatory stealth, all the while listening in on the conversation the chiefs. It appeared that Cass was in the room with them.

Once he was positioned in the ceiling just outside the door to the room in the hallway, Alabaster stopped and listened.

"You were shielded by the walls of the city and still you were blinded and deafened by the explosion. The others nearby on the wall were even less fortunate. We are preparing to mobilize medical teams to brave the surface long enough to treat the wounded with a nanite solution."

Alabaster's heart skipped a beat in excitement. This was news. A goodly portion of the troops on the surface needed a nanite injection? The horde reeled at him, impressing upon him the magnitude of the opportunity. In the darkness on the air duct, Alabaster's pupils dilated as he conferred with the Creator. The answer was immediate.

" _This is what we have been waiting for,"_ said a thousand thousand voices in Alabaster's head. It did not concern him that he whispered the response he had been waiting for along with the Creator and the rest of the Phylum.

There was little time. Alabaster took off, skittering through the ceiling as quickly and silently as possible. The hospital was not far. It would take only minutes to arrive there on a normal day, but he needed to employ stealth if he was to avoid arousing suspicion. Alabaster did not frequent the hospital, so his presence there would be awkward to have to explain to anyone who might see him. Plus, he could not be seen by any of the other chiefs. That would no doubt start a conversation that would lead to questions best left unexplored for the time being. Things had to unravel in due course.

Once Alabaster had reached the edge of the building he stopped and listened. Two technicians walked through the hallway beneath him, their tools clinking in their belts and their grumbling complaints about the furnace acting up again drifting away into the distance. After they turned a corner and were gone, Alabaster pushed the grate below him off, catching it as it fell. He leapt down and replaced the grate before dashing through the tunnel that connected Warfang Control to the Hall of Techne, the building that served as a shrine to the technological achievements that the mole race had accomplished since the Day of the Advent. He cut through here and into some of the less important buildings that occupied the center of Mjölnir, going a bit out of his way in order to take a less traveled path to the hospital.

He would have been seen at least twice along the way, but his superior senses always alerted him to impending discovery beforehand, enabling him to duck out of sight long enough for passersby to go about their business. By the time he reached the hospital nearly twenty minutes had passed since he had discovered it was the place to be. He hoped that he was not too late.

Alabaster walked through the entrance to the hospital on the third floor via the east wing tunnel. There was a map of the building on the wall to his right for arrivals. Research and development were on B1. Reception and walk in were located on F1. Floor two housed a series of wards for operations and procedures of greater complexity. The third floor was used as a med pod bay for the most extreme cases that required months of highly delicate work, typically moles with terrible birth defects who needed nerve and brain remapping as well as DNA overwriting. The fifth floor was merely a bunch of offices for the senior staff, but the fourth floor indicated that it was dedicated to production and storage. That was where he needed to be.

The hospital was terribly unpleasant for Alabaster. The stench of antiseptic hung heavy in the air. He knew that he would have been able to smell it just fine even without his improved senses, but it was overpowering as he was, blocking out all else with its invasively sterile punch. The smell was not the only thing that put him on edge. There was something else about the place that made the hairs all over his body stand on end. Everything was too neat. Not in an effective way one employed to maintain order, nor in an obsessive way one would adhere to out of some compulsory disorder. There was an agenda to it. It almost had a feeling of intention to it, as though whoever was in charge of the place had ordered everything from the placement of the faux leather chairs to the rigid, reflective tile of the floor in an effort to impress upon anyone who ever found themselves in the area to feel a certain way. Was it anxious? Perhaps a sense of impending doom so subtle you'd be thought of as crazy to point it out? Whatever it was, it was unnerving.

Alabaster did not linger. He vaulted upward. This time he pushed one of the ceiling tiles back and slid into the ceiling itself. Once he was sure enough of his footing so as not to put a limb through the flimsy material, he stopped and listened. The hospital was a busy place at all times. Plenty of people got hurt during important experiments despite whatever safety measures may have been in place. In a city where new knowledge flooded in by the day, events without precedent were not uncommon.

The footfalls and voices of doctors rang out across the floor and through the air. The vibrations gave Alabaster a map of the building that he could see with his mind's eye. Once he found the stairs leading to the fourth floor, he was off.

Traversing the ceiling with stealth was much more difficult than the air duct in Warfang Control. But the ventilation system in the hospital was not a single network, but rather separate systems that were capable of being disconnected and reconnected with one another. It was an ingenious design that Alabaster had worked on himself in order to prevent contagious airborne diseases from spreading and to keep sterile environments isolated for those too delicate for the outside world. He knew that he could not rely on the vents to take him upstairs. The ceiling would have to do.

Once he reached the stairs Alabaster had to wind his way between metal pipes and wiring up an incline. This proved nearly impossible to do without smashing through the floor even with his outstanding agility. He was halfway up when he heard the distinct ringing sound that only a phone would make. It was coming from a room up on the fifth floor. Alabaster tilted his head and held still.

The mole sitting at the desk with the phone picked it up. "This is Medical Chief Executive Officer Iaso. Who is calling? By whose order? I see. Can you give me the verification code? All right, I'll get everything set up."

Time was running out. Alabaster pulled a tile back and jumped down onto the stairs. He lunged up the stairs, turning and running sideways across the wall in his haste and up the rest of the stairs to the fourth floor. When he arrived at the door leading to storage he pulled out his keycard and swiped it through the terminal on the wall. The light flicked from red to green as it registered the master code of a Lab Chief and a click sounded as the door unlocked.

Once through the door, Alabaster knew he would have to take great care not to be seen by anyone. His presence in this area, while not illegal, was highly irregular. Though he had the authority to move about freely within, if he was spotted he would be questioned about his presence and taken under the wing of a handler who would want to escort him everywhere on an official tour to make certain he had everything he needed. Though the catering nature of the moles toward the Lab Chiefs was a comfortable commodity, here it would only slow him down and make his mission impossible.

He kept his body tucked in and moved about the room slowly, listening to everything and making certain to stay in the camera's blind spots. There were a great many interesting things that Alabaster walked between on his way through storage. Great glass tanks filled with liquid suspending artificially grown limbs and organs custom made from the very DNA of the ones they were created for filled the area. This was most of what made up the production side of the floor, though there were also containers filled with the materials to synthesize blood which was drained out and collected in an IV bag that had to be periodically switched out by personnel for empty ones.

Across the room there was another door. This one lacked a terminal, so Alabaster simply zipped through after disabling the camera pointed at it. A broken camera was suspicious, but not as incriminating as footage of him sneaking around.

The room on the other side of the floor was filled with all sorts of medical equipment for nearly every eventuality. Alabaster slunk between rows of neatly packed and carefully labeled bins of supplies until he found his way to the center of this area. There, in the middle of the room, connected to a base welded to the floor, was a giant repository for the nanite solution that could heal most internal damage.

This stuff was the mole nation's fountain of youth, the elixir of life. But it was extremely difficult and time consuming to make. This container housed the vast majority of what existed within Mjölnir. So the precious material had to be used sparingly, or in times of dire emergency, until such a time that someone could devise a way to mass produce the stuff.

Now that Alabaster stood before the cache of liquid metal solution that was to be used on hundreds of people on the surface, he pondered how to get at it. There was an access junction at the base where someone could insert a needle to siphon the contents into a syringe, but that wouldn't fit Alabaster's needs. There had to be another way inside.

He looked up and saw that unlike production, the majority of the cameras in storage pointed in one direction, toward the nanite solution. "Figures," he said as he leapt up and latched onto the ceiling, crawling around and disabling them one at a time. As he went in a circle around the tank, he realized that there was a hatch at the top. That looked promising.

Upon the dismantling of the last camera, Alabaster leapt down on top of the container and probed the edges of the lid that sealed the top of the tank. It, too, was welded, but that wouldn't stop Alabaster. This was the only other access point aside from the junction below. It would have to do. He squeezed his fingers into the gaps on either side of the welded patch and pulled back. With a loud metallic screech, the cap was pulled clean off its hinges.

Alabaster peered down through the hole and grinned as a smooth silvery substance stared back at him. He put his hand to his face and bit down on the end of his finger. Then he held his hand over the hole and pointed at the solution below. "The Phylum welcomes you." A single drop of blood fell from the tip of his finger, and then the wound sealed itself.

With his job done, Alabaster placed the lid back in place and bent the edges of the metal in to fasten it in place. He then jumped down from the top of the tank and fled from the center of the room. The door he was making his way toward opened with a click and a tiny squeak. Alabaster ducked down one of the rows of bins and circled around, listening for the footfalls of technicians. There were four of them. They all passed through the doorway in single file, talking amongst themselves as they did so.

As the last of them passed through the door, Alabaster leaped up into the air, arched over the row of bins between him and the aisle with the door, and slid through before it clicked shut behind him and the technicians sent to collect some nanite solution for the forces manning the eastern wall of Warfang.

" _Excellent,"_ came the chorus of the Phylum. _"We look forward to greeting our new family."_

Alabaster smiled and jumped into the ceiling once more to take the cautious path back to Aero Labs now that he had all the time in the world.

XXX

Ferrous, the commander of the regiment in charge of manning the northern perimeter, stood atop the wall in grim awe of the battle that raged on before him. The Black Dragon, former Terror of the Skies herself, was holding back the enormous abomination known as the Phantasmagorian all by herself. She had been doing so for going on two hours and was beginning to tire. Most of the northern forces including the cheetahs and the main bulk of the mole forces had pulled back into the city as it was abundantly clear that they would have no impact in a battle against such a veritable monstrosity.

The thing had a hundred mouths and arms, a thousand eyes, and must have once been the individual bodies of countless organisms. Another blast of bright purple energy erupted from Cynder's maw. It cascaded down across the invisible barrier that covered the monster, diffusing the energy and mitigating the destruction caused by the otherwise devastating convexity beam. Yet, even as the excess energy began to leak through the field and score large gouges in the creature's flesh its muscles and tendons began to fuse together with terrific speed, effectively nullifying what damage Cynder had managed to inflict.

The battle was hopeless, as it were. The Phantasmagorian would eventually catch Cynder in the air with one of its many flailing appendages. It was only a matter of time before the relentless attrition took its toll, for the horror of the north did not appear taxed in the slightest.

"What are we going to do, sir?" asked one of the troops who had stayed behind with Ferrous out of a morbid curiosity to watch the battle unfold.

"Hope for a bloody miracle, that's what. Because that thing's not going down easy, that's for sure. I'm thinking a retreat to Mjölnir may be in order, but I'm waiting from permission from the chiefs. I'll order the evacuation with or without the order if need be, but I'd prefer to do things by the book. No point in us getting involved with that thing. It'd be a massacre."

They watched in silence for a while as the Phantasmagorian took a couple lumbering steps toward Warfang, only to be forcibly blown backward by a wind many times more powerful than that of any hurricane, courtesy of Valorie, who occasionally offered a helping paw together with Vivian. Cynder was doing her best, but manipulating the elements on the grand scale required to make a difference in this battle was no doubt leaving little mana left in her reserves despite her occasional dip into the dark powers at her disposal.

Fear Master Vivian and Wind Master Valorie had wished to lend their direct support against the monster with Cynder, but it had quickly become evident that even their combined might was not enough to quell the threat permanently. So they stayed on the wall and focused their power on the creature during moments when Cynder found herself in an inopportune situation. The strategy had worked so far, but Cynder would eventually tire and one of the masters would have to take her place. It seemed only Spyro possessed the power to stop a being as formidable as the one they currently faced, but word from those of the eastern forces still on their feet was that he was terribly weak now. They needed more time, or more power. Either would be welcome now.

As they stood together and watched helplessly, the Phantasmagorian lurched in an especially awkward motion, knotting its many arms together into a great wall that spanned out away from its main body. It swung them all in tandem, knocking Cynder out of the sky to come crashing down to earth between the inner moat and the wall. Her body slammed against the wall and slid the rest of the way down to land in a crumpled pile just outside the city. Once her wings settled, she did not move again.

Vivian and Valorie roared in unison before taking flight to intercept the creature before it could lumber any closer to the city. Ferrous stared down at Cynder's body from the battlements. She was widely regarded one of the strongest warriors of dragon kind. And now she looked to be very probably dead. He pulled away from the edge of the wall and took a couple steps back. "I think it might be time to go now."

Ferrous reached for his walkie talkie at his belt and put it to his lips. "This is Commander Ferrous of the northern forces. We're pulling back."

The box crackled to life and a member of Warfang Control responded. "We understand your concern, Commander. But take heart. Chief Thompson is sending a care package from the vaults of Electro Labs, as well as Chief Walden of Chem Labs."

Ferrous felt a flutter of excitement in his chest at the news. He put the walkie talkie to his mouth again. "Are they, now? Which vaults might those be?"

The device crackled again. "The big ones. In sublevel nine."

Ferrous slammed the walkie talkie back in his belt with gusto and took a deep breath. "Erik, tell the troops to regroup and take their positions back on the wall."

The mole by his side gave him a salute and said, "With pleasure, sir."

Within five minute's time the entire northern regiment was crowded around the wall. Erik had spread the word that the chiefs had decided to open the supreme armories and were readying their greatest weapons of war. The air of confidence the mole forces displayed was such that even the cheetahs had dared to brave the wall once more.

The leader of the cheetah forces, Hunter stood behind Ferrous now as they all gathered to watch Vivian and Valorie hold the titan at bay. He leaned in to ask the commander the question all of the cheetahs were wondering. "What's going on? Why have we returned?"

Ferrous turned to look at Hunter over his shoulder and gave him a knowing smile. But rather than answer him directly, he climbed up on the battlement to address the crowd in full. "Today shall be remembered throughout the ages. For this day shall serve as a testament to the powers of science, and the might that the mole nation has achieved through the pursuit of knowledge. On this day, we give thanks to the Spark of Science for the blessings that it has bestowed upon our people."

Ferrous' words were met by an uproar from the moles around the wall, but the cheetahs and the dragons standing nearby looked on the moles with confusion, and in some cases skepticism. One earth dragon among the crowd spoke up over the cheers of the moles. "Oh, yeah? And what's this amazing trick you've got to pull that can top Cynder and the rest of our masters. Not even they with all of their magic can stand against that thing out there. What makes you think you moles can make a difference?"

The cheers died down as many of the moles turned to regard the dragon who had spoken. Muttering broke out among the moles in hushed whispers, though some phrases like "primitive mind" and "primal intellect" were uttered so many times that their echoed chorus was enough to be overheard.

Other dragons around the wall picked up on this and began to ask one another if they were hearing the moles correctly. However, before anyone could speak up again, a droning hum suddenly broke over the murmurings of the ruffled crowd. The hum grew louder and stronger in intensity as the crowd hushed to listen. The wall began to vibrate beneath their feet and the air itself began to feel like it was crawling through Ferrous' fur.

Then the machine rose from the city. It was a large metal disc as far across as three adult dragons with their wings extended. It had a mirror shine that reflected everything beneath it in pristine detail. The disc hovered above the buildings of Warfang for a moment before zipping to a point just above and behind the wall. The suddenness of its approach was startling, even to the moles, who had never seen it in action before. It had traveled a kilometer in nearly the blink of an eye before halting with nearly zero point deceleration.

The air thrummed around it, raising the hairs on the moles and the cheetahs all around and making everyone's teeth rattle. The walkie talkie at Ferrous' waist let out a burst of static, its signal scrambled. Very little managed to get through from Warfang Control, but Ferrous was able to pick out a few tatters of orders. "…ould hel…emly dan…tro magne…er off… repea…urn pow…"

Ferrous flicked the switch on the walkie talkie's side. It was useless with the machine above them so close. It hovered motionless for several seconds before rising up further into the air. Then the humming changed. The vibrations started to develop a rhythm. Complex patterns began to develop. The vibrations in the air and the stone around them began to make more detailed sounds, as though focusing and fine tuning. Then, with sudden clarity, the vibrations began to make words, as if the machine was speaking to the forces on the wall by using the world around them as a soundboard.

"Attention, may I have your attention, please. This is Chief Thompson of Electro Labs speaking. The device above you is powered by a system that generates an electromagnetic field capable of disrupting any electrical devices and frying their circuitry, so please disable them until the weapon has retreated to Mjölnir. And of course, be sure to keep your distance from the area that the device has targeted, as it is capable of exerting up to fifty meganewtons. So just stand back and enjoy the show."

The disc glided over the battlefield and stopped over the Phantasmagorian. Vivian and Valorie looked up and retreated back toward the wall, diving down to collect Cynder and make certain she was still alive. Once they confirmed that she was still breathing, they picked her up together and awkwardly carried her to the top of the wall. When they landed, Vivian strode up to Ferrous. "Commander Ferrous, what is that thing?"

Ferrous gave the dragon master a smile and spread his arms wide in reply. "The answer to our little problem."

Vivian took a breath, perhaps to press him for details, but was suddenly cut short when the disc pulsed violently. The air beneath it shuddered and the Phantasmagorian squealed from its many mouths like a horde of pigs set for slaughter. The air around the creature shimmered for an instant as though a layer of energy around it dissolved and the beast was shoved mercilessly to the ground. The earth all around it was flattened in a perfect circle as it was pushed nearly ten meters down, trapping the horror in a pit of despair. The creature flattened out across the ground, and its flesh was smoothed out across the surface of the pit until it was spread evenly.

Once the creature was no more than a thin disc, much like the device that had so effortlessly destroyed it, the air and ground around the machine vibrated again. "All right, Walden. Time for stage two. Are you ready to apply the fluoroantimonic acid?"

"The canisters are in position," came the call from a hidden PA system inside Warfang, echoing out toward the wall. "We're making the necessary calculations for launch now."

"Take your time. We've got the nasty bugger pinned," came Thompson's voice from the vibrations around the metal disc in the sky.

In the silence that followed while everyone sat back in awe, Ferrous clasped his hands behind his back and began to speak. "For thousands of years we moles have strove to overcome the weakness inherent in our race. We, who are such tiny, fragile creatures compared to the dragons. We, who are slow and clumsy footed compared to the cheetahs. We, who fell from grace when our magical era came to a gruesome, bloody end."

Vivian and Valorie looked down at the commander of the northern mole regiment as he spoke. Ferrous raised a hand to gesture at the disc in the sky and the massive creature that it had felled in a single moment. "Now the time has finally come for us to reveal ourselves to the fearsome beasts that have haunted our dreams for millennia. For deep in the womb of the earth, we have been reborn. Our science has grown to such magnificent proportions that our technology can tackle tasks proven well beyond the magical properties of even the dragon elders. Indeed, today marks the beginning of a new era. The Age of Science. And what a glorious, golden age it shall be. It's a brave new world."

The moles around the wall cheered while the dragons and cheetahs watched the device hold the flesh of the Phantasmagorian down. Their cheering ceased when the PA system in Warfang crackled. "Coordinates are dialed in, wind speed and payload mass have been calculated, and the cannons have been primed. Clear the target."

The air under the disc wavered as a tremendous pressure was lifted and the disc zipped toward the city, out of sight in less than a second. A moment later a dull boom thudded in the city and a trio of missiles came arching overhead. They whistled through the air and over the wall to come crashing down into the pit. They popped and flashed when they made contact as tiny explosive charges strapped to the exterior detonated. This burst the canisters and allowed a liquid to come pouring out.

As soon as the disc had lifted the field trapping the creature, its flesh had immediately tried to wriggle outwards away from the pit in an apparent effort to reform, but now that the liquid was flowing freely onto the remains of the Phantasmagorian, its skin, muscle, and even bones were reduced to a syrup that spread like wildfire, eating away at everything it touched. In less than a minute, it was clear that once the process was complete, there would be nothing left of the creature to reform. It was surely and truly dead now and would trouble them no more.

Erik jumped up beside Ferrous and clapped along with the rest of the moles as they applauded the flawless execution of the plan. He leaned his head toward the commander, still watching the creature fizzle and dissolve, ignoring the dragon masters beside them. "I see Chem Labs has been able to synthesize a substance many times more caustic than anything the poison dragons can produce. Chief Walden has really outdone himself."

Ferrous slapped the soldier on the back with a booming laugh. "You're impressed by the acid? What about that electromagnet Chief Thompson and his technicians made? It uses electricity and the laws of magnetism in ways no lightning dragon has ever even thought of. Not that any one lightning dragon could reproduce the results that that thing has to offer, am I right?"

"Well, sir, any way you look at it, it's a glorious day to be a mole."

"That it is, Erik. That it is."

XXX

Commander Tenacity of the southern regiment watched as the three dragon elders stationed at the southern wall led the dragons in an attack against the mechanical behemoth that had emerged from the portal two hours ago. The design was enough to show that it was undoubtedly mole made. It resembled a massive buffalo scorpion with drills for arms and another at the tip of the tail. The Mine Crawler was clearly designed to dig tunnels at a rapid rate, something the Manweersmalls of Munition's Forge were known for.

The problem now was that the machine was being operated by apes, and it wasn't digging for ores to be processed and made into tools and weapons; it was trying to clear a path under Warfang straight to Mjölnir. The first thing it had done was bore several dozen meters into the earth, nearly disappearing from sight. But acting quickly, Volteer, Cyril, and Hexus had managed to halt its advance and force it to come out of its burrow to defend itself.

Overcoming the drill bit at the end of the tail had been tricky, especially considering the elders had to keep flying lower into the angled crater that the apes were digging, for they did not initially stop its progress. What ultimately forced them to abandon their objective and come out of the hole was when Cyril managed to freeze the drill at the end of the tail in place. As it turned out, the Mine Crawler was designed to withstand the blistering temperatures of magma pockets it happened upon while tunneling through the land around an active volcano. But it was completely vulnerable to freezing temperatures.

Realizing this, Cyril and the rest of the ice dragons took turns attempting to freeze the drills on the arms in place. However, each time they managed to do so, the apes controlling the machine bashed the arms together, shattering the ice and freeing up the drills so that they could continue their assault.

Hexus and the rest of the poison dragons proved to be of little help, as the acid they spat down upon the Mine Crawler did little to the tempered metal casing. Volteer and the lightning dragons were equally powerless against the machine, for it was well grounded. Any electricity they shot at it was promptly channeled harmlessly into the earth. No earth or fire dragon under the masters' command could harm it, as heat and rock were the two things it was built to deal with best. The metal made it far too heavy for wind dragons to do anything at all, and the fear dragons couldn't reach the apes inside the control deck.

That left only the shadow dragons. While the ice dragons tried to keep its drills temporarily paralyzed, the shadow dragons would work together, combining their strength in an attempt to drag the Mine Crawler into a prone position by its own shadow. However, the machine put up a tremendous fight, flailing about wildly as the apes inside attempted to retain control of the fight. And so the dance for control played out, neither side willing to give in.

Every now and then, Tenacity would order the ground to air cannons to fire a missile at the Mine Crawler whenever there was an opening for them to do some damage without hurting the dragons. But the machine was immense, and the metal it was made from was more durable than Tenacity would have thought possible, thanks to the unique ores found only in the earth beneath Boyzitbig.

The concussive blasts were still a bit more than the device was made to handle, but the damage was minimal, unable to disable the machine. After a couple of hours, the launch tubes were depleted and the Mine Crawler was still active, trying to swat the dragons out of the air. Several holes showed a bit of the machine's innards, and a few bits of broken mechanics had fallen out. Clearly, the mechanical scorpion was impaired, but only just. Something more would be required to bring it down.

As Tenacity watched the struggle between digging machine and dragons, that 'something more' made an appearance. And it came in the form of a mole who strode up to Tenacity and gave her an ironic salute. "Morning, ma'am."

Tenacity turned and looked the young lad up and down. He wasn't one of her troops. That much was obvious just by looking at him. This young man wore a somewhat cumbersome backpack that hummed softly behind him. He was also completely covered by a tremendous fur coat, an empty bandolier strung from shoulder to hip, thick rubber gloves, and a clear face mask with a line to pipe in oxygen. Even by mole standards, he looked ridiculous.

Commander Tenacity clasped her hands behind her back and raised a single eyebrow behind her oculars. "And who might you be?"

The mole waved a single hand expansively as he gave his reply. "Arturius, Level Nine Cryo Labs Field Tester, at your service. I've come as per Chief Corbal's orders to deal with that bloody nightmare out there. Now I'm going to need everyone to vacate the premises. This fancy suitcase back here contains substances kept within one billionth of a Kelvin from absolute zero. When that exits the containment system it gets a bit nippy. Thirty meters ought to be far enough, thank you."

Tenacity begrudgingly followed the technician's orders, for though he was a young researcher and she a seasoned commander of the armed forces, as a tech from sublevel nine of one of the labs, he outranked her. Still, she found it odd that command hadn't mentioned his impending arrival.

When she voiced this thought, Arturius simply shrugged his shoulders and hoisted the straps around his waist back up. "There's a lot going on in Mjölnir right now. The chiefs are scattered doing their own things. I guess none of them could be bothered to mention it to command."

He looked around then and off handedly spoke to Tenacity without looking at her. "Should I tell them to get a move on myself, or do you think they'll get the message when the temperature drops to -45°C when I turn it on? This suit isn't exactly for looks, you know?"

Tenacity ordered all of the moles under her command to vacate a thirty meter radius around Arturius and advised the cheetahs to do the same. The dragons could withstand the cold. The ice dragons in particular would probably find the sudden change in atmosphere invigorating.

Once the area was clear, Arturius reached around his back and pulled a hose from a holster. He attached an intricate looking nozzle to the front of it and reached around his back again to pull a tiny metal canister no bigger than the end of his thumb. After he affixed the small container to the nozzle he gave it a twist and an audible snick indicated that it was in place. With that he pulled the hose so that he had enough give in the line and yelled to the crowd surrounding him and watching his every move. "Clear!"

He pulled a lever and the heat was instantly sucked out of the air. The opposite end of the metal canister slid out and a clear substance ballooned outward into a perfect sphere, filling up with a white substance of some sort. When the orb was the size of a fist he pulled the lever, stemming the flow, and used a gloved thumb to slide the metal end of the canister back in place, cinching the end of the ball and sealing it at the same time.

Arturius then repeated the process several more times, setting the spheres in a sling hanging from his bandolier. When four of the spheres were ready he removed the nozzle from the end of the hose and replaced it with another one. This one looked much simpler in design, and Tenacity could guess by looking at it what it was meant for.

Sure enough, Arturius flicked another switch on the hose once the new nozzle had clicked into place and reached into the bandolier to load one of the spheres into the end of the hose. He took aim then and said, "Fire on the range!"

A pressurized blast of air hissed out of the hose and the sphere soared through the air straight toward the Mine Crawler. The impact was small but the surge of ice that bloomed outward from the middle of it was no laughing matter. The projectile struck one of the joints in the left arm of the machine and completely froze the entire limb. Everyone on the wall watched as the ice continued to spread. For a moment it seemed as though it wasn't going to stop, and indeed it never did, though the process did slow.

Tenacity looked back at Arturius, who was already loading the second round. He took aim once more and launched it, the sphere covering the nearly three hundred yards between his position on the wall and the place in the field where the Mine Crawler attempted to drill through the ice with its other appendage.

The second round struck the tip of the base of the drill on the second arm and more ice exploded outward, freezing it to the first arm. The third one slammed into the drill at the tail, giving the Mine Crawler a rather unwieldy tail spade that had to weigh at least ten metric tons. The many intricate joints in the tail of the machine groaned under the extra weight for a moment before many sparks, snaps, and mechanical screeches ran the length of the extension and it fell limp to the ground.

Arturius loaded the fourth sphere and took aim once more. "The world has seen fit to lend you life. Now it is time for you to give it back. I hope you enjoyed your day under the sun, brief as it always is for each of us. Good night."

He pulled the trigger and the final sphere soared straight and true, bursting on the head of the scorpion's body, where the control room was no doubt located. As the ice spread across the fore of the device, the twitches and flicks in the joints of the malfunctioning machine slowed. After a few seconds, they stopped altogether.

Arturius slid the hose home in the holster and saluted Tenacity, for real this time. "The apes inside should be dead by now. At least I hope they are. No one deserves to suffer in agony at the edge of oblivion."

Tenacity bowed her head and quietly spoke. "Apes have fur, Arturius. They can withstand -45°C for a time."

Arturius lowered his head as well. "The air around the polymer pouches when they rupture drops below -250°C in a thousandth of a second, but thanks for that." He walked away then, wordlessly making the trek back to Mjölnir.

XXX

Magnus awoke to darkness and silence. He opened his eyes, but to his confusion his world remained devoid of light. When he moved, he realized that his hands scraping against the stone of the wall made no sound. Then he remembered what happened. The colossus, Spyro, the explosion. That was the last thing he could remember. The explosion was unlike anything he had ever seen. Never before had the dragons, not even the Purple Dragon of legend shown such a display of sheer force. At least not since Malefor nearly destroyed the world, but that was with the help of the immense titan that was the Destroyer.

The light had been bright enough to overpower the polarized lenses of his oculars, and the roar of the blast certainly deafened anyone nearby. The wounds suffered by those clustered around the wall would be dire indeed. Spyro had shown no restraint against their foe whatsoever, and the results were not entirely welcome.

Now Magnus felt a prick in his left arm in the crook at his elbow. There was someone next to him. A mole, by the feel of the fur he gripped at. A hand caressed his forehead and pat him gently, letting him know that the presence was a friendly one.

He relaxed and allowed a strange itching to bubble up in his ears and eyes. The urge to scratch at them was nearly irresistible, but he knew better than to do so. In a matter of moments, the world came back to him in a series of ever clearer flashes of light and muffled thrums of sound. Eventually, shapes began to emerge from the shifting shadows and the hums in his ears began to weave semi-cohesive murmurs that had to be voices.

After a couple of minutes, his sight and hearing were perfectly restored. He looked up into the face of a field medic and gave one quick nod. "Thank you, I'm fine now. I see you've brought the good stuff with you."

The medic rose and reached into a gauntlet, pulling a tiny syringe out of a slot, which rotated a full one ready to be plucked. "Yes, the chiefs gave the order. It was the quickest way to tend to this many wounded in an expeditious fashion. Now, if you'll excuse me Commander, I must continue my rounds."

Magnus watched the medic walk away and lean down to tend to Terrador, who had apparently fallen unconscious next to him. He watched the medic gently pull the Earth Master's scales back to inject the nanite solution into the tender flesh underneath. He watched as the medic pushed the plunger that poured the healing substance into the elder's body, giving back the gift of his senses. Magnus watched as all around the wall a dozen or so medics went from mole to cheetah to dragon, giving each and every one of the fallen a dose of the miracle substance that could mend any wound.

A smile twitched the corners of Magnus' lips as Shadow Master Noh received the administration as well, though for a moment he could not understand why. He just sat there where he had fallen on the wall watching as everyone around him was given the nanites. For a few minutes he thought it to be simple joy at being able to help the other races with something they would never be able to provide for themselves, or even understand for that matter.

But as Magnus watched, he began to laugh softly to himself. There was more to it than that, he began to realize. Much, much more. There was something nagging at him in the back of his mind, trying to tell him what it was. At first, it was just a vague notion, then more of an instinct. As the seconds trickled by he began to hear the whispers, a great well of knowledge and insight deep within himself, yet somehow deeper than himself.

The whispers became muttered scraps of conversation, a web of souls all interconnected within him. It was as if he were but a single strand within that net, and though it was cast wide, he could see it all through the connections, like he was a part of every strand, and every strand a part of him.

And as he sat there, allowing this transcendental change to wash over him, even as the waters of rebirth dripped fresh from his spirit and the final changes began to pump through his mind and his veins, he watched as new strands were woven around him, becoming one with him in a way too intimate to describe. He could feel them from within themselves, see the world through their eyes, know them as they knew themselves.

Those closest to him, who had received the injections just after him turned to him and gave him a warm, utopian smile and a nod of acknowledgement, just as he did likewise. The horde of notions swarming through all the older strands in the net rushed in and welcomed Magnus and all of the other new arrivals. _"Welcome, welcome, welcome."_

"Welcome," Magnus found himself saying under his own breath. And the smile upon his lips widened with the others around him as they too echoed the chanted greeting within.

"Welcome to the Phylum," said Terrador, who was now awake and looking fitter than ever.

Magnus looked up at his draconian brother with joy in his heart and spread his arms wide. Even as he did so, Terrador spread his wings, the connection between them still fresh and its influence strong. "Everything is going to be perfect soon," said Magnus. Terrador nodded in agreement. "I feel young again."

"We feel young again," said Terrador. And the two shared a laugh.

Magnus walked to the edge of the wall and look out at the now fully risen sun. He took a deep breath and let it out, allowing the endorphins to surge through the receptors in his brain. He rested his arms against the stone and smiled out at the trees, the sky, the horizon, and the whole world that lay beyond. Everything was beautiful and everything was wonderful. A new age of bliss was upon them.

Bliss.

That was a perfect name. The new strain within the Phylum on the wall would be called the Bliss Strain. The rest of the Phylum accepted the idea and reveled in delight as the new strain was christened. It brought to those who were blessed with the gift a permanent childlike innocence and euphoria. It was also a celebrated improvement on the Paragon Strain from which it mutated. No more pesky iris affectations to give away those who bore it to those who misunderstood it.

In time, they too would come to understand what perfection it was to be the Phylum. All they needed was a little coaxing, a different angle from which to look at what it had to offer. Once the Phylum in Warfang got everyone else warmed up to the idea, they would be accepted with open arms into this brave new world where everyone lived together as one.


	7. Chapter 7-New Growth

Chapter 7-New Growth

White light blotted out the windows of the barracks and an earth shaking roar shook the ground and rattled the panes, shattering the glass in one of the frames. Brook leapt to her feet, throwing down the doll she'd been repairing, and rushed over to the screaming children to quiet them down and tell them that everything was going to be just fine. Everything was going to be fine. She had to believe that.

It was the first time any of the fighting made itself known this far into the city. The children knew little of what occurred along the wall, and indeed, Brook never saw the fighting as well since she spent her days seeing to the village's young. But each day when the sun went down and the children were all tucked away, Wylee would tell her of the horrors he'd seen outside the protective walls of Warfang.

At first he refused to worry her with it, but after enough coaxing, she managed to get him to talk. What he had to say was most unwelcome, but it was better to know the truth than sit cowering, unaware of the fury that raged all around them each day. Now she would have to get her daily report elsewhere. Hunter, perhaps.

One of the cubs who had been playing under the window sat crying in the middle of the broken glass. Brook rushed over and plucked him from the mess to carry him over to her bunk. By the time she sat him down on the cot the shaking had stopped and the light outside the window was the soft yellow of the late morning sun. Brook shouted for help and reached under her cot to pull out her supplies.

The cub's name was Glen. Through no fault of his own he was always getting into trouble that wound up landing him in front of either Brook or her mother, Ginger. He was terribly unlucky, and Brook figured it would be him to get his feet cut on the glass as she pulled some tweezers out of her bag and quickly tugged the shards out of his skin.

The door to the barracks was flung open and Ginger came running into the room. Brook yelled over the still wailing children that a window had broken and she was occupied. Ginger tended to the children while Brook applied ointment to Glen's cuts and bandaged them up. She put her healing kit away and kissed him on the forehead, giving him the most motherly smile she could muster. "There you go. All better."

She then swept up all of the broken glass and took it outside to dispose of it. When she returned, her mother had the children under control and was patching up the window with a makeshift cover fashioned out of a cloth usually used to clean wounds, which she nailed into place with a hammer and nails procured from the belongings of one of the village craftsmen. When she was done she put the tools back and said, "That'll have to do until Birch comes back from the wall. He'll fix it properly."

Brook stared at her mother with a furrowed brow and gestured toward the broken window. "What was that?"

Ginger bowed her head and gestured off toward the door. "It came from the east. A massive explosion lit up the entire sky. I had to look away, it was so bright. Whatever happened, it was big. And close, too. I'd wager none too far from the wall if I had to guess."

Without a word, Brook was by her bedside again, pulling her bag back out from under the cot. Glen looked back at her and grabbed her shirt with his tiny fist. "Brook, what are you doing?"

Brook leaned down and cupped Glen's face with a hand and said, "I have to go, Glen. Our people may need a healer."

"No." Glen held on tighter as she pulled away. "I want you to stay here with us, Brook."

Brook crouched down again and grabbed Glen's other hand in both of hers. "I know you want me to stay, but I have a job to do. What if I wasn't around to help you when you hurt your feet? I must go wherever there is hurt, so I can make it better."

Glen let go of her shirt then and she hoisted the bag up and slung it over her shoulder, sliding her other arm through the second strap as she turned to face her mother. Ginger took a deep breath and embraced her daughter, holding her tight. "Be safe," she said in Brook's ear, and then Brook was out the door and running down the path toward the street, up the road into the city and rushing full tilt between the immense buildings built for dragons.

Her cheetah speed ate up the distance between her and the wall, carrying her closer to her destination most expeditiously. However, she had covered no more than half a mile when the buzzing of the city hive connection in her head rose and a single voice drifted through her mind over the clamor of the others. Brook was utterly shocked when she realized that the voice she heard belonged to none other than the dragon leader himself, the Grand High Elder, Yarrow.

His voice came, sage like from off in the distance, whispering toward her from where his body rested somewhere in the heart of Warfang. _"Brook, is it? I must apologize for the intrusion, but from what I gather of your thoughts you are a healer on your way to the eastern wall, are you not?"_

Brook slowed to a halt, standing in the center of a four way intersection as she instinctively turned toward the direction Yarrow resided. "Um, yes, sir."

" _Listen closely. I have suddenly lost contact with everyone on the eastern wall. It is unclear what degree of peril they have suffered, but the force that has severed the connection was terrible, indeed. I have a favor to ask of you. You have studied under your mother for nigh on fifteen years in the art of healing, practically since you were born. You have supplies that can offer some relief in a controlled environment, but the situation on the wall requires much more than what you have to offer."_

Brook did not question how the ancient dragon knew so much about her. She simply chalked it up to magic and listened as the dragon leader continued to speak to her inside her own mind. _"I cannot leave my post. Keeping the city connected and coordinating all of the decisions to defend the city requires my undivided attention. So, if you would be so kind, come to my garden. I would have an audience with you, so that I may impart upon you a gift that shall aid in your quest."_

This final statement was paired with a fast moving series of mental images that showed Brook how to get there from where she stood. _"Time is of the essence, Brook. Do hurry, if you would."_

The drone of the city rose up for a brief moment again before collapsing back into a barely noticeable hum in the back of her skull. Brook stared down the street that would take her to the ring shaped house she had seen in the visions where something that could scarcely be called a garden ran wilder than the darkest depths of any jungle. After a moment's hesitation she began to run toward the heart of the city.

A swarm of thoughts filled her head as she raced toward the meeting she never expected in all her life. She was just a simple cheetah girl, no faster or stronger or smarter than any other. She had lived the life of a healer's daughter until the war had spurred the people of her village from their homes to seek refuge within the heavily defended walls of Warfang. Even in the four months she had spent taking care of the children with her mother while the rest of the village manned the wall, she never expected to personally meet with the leader of the dragon race. Now he had called her to his innermost sanctum to speak alone with her and to bestow upon her a gift. It was unbelievable.

She reached the plaza at the center of the city and took a side road that led straight to the ring that Yarrow called his house. It was a massive structure, but once inside, Brook found that there was actually little to the interior. It was mostly one single hallway that seemed to stretch the entire circumference of the house, though there were a couple doors just visible before the edge of her vision in the curve on either side of the entryway she had chosen.

Rather than explore the house, she walked straight across to a doorway leading to the ring's interior. Like the door leading into the house, this door opened at her approach. Though she knew something of what to expect from the visions Yarrow had shown her, Brook still gasped in surprise at the sight that awaited her.

Vegetation of every conceivable kind greeted her arrival. It did not take long for Brook to realize that there were other plants in the so called garden that were not natural. Many roots and vines twitched at her presence and probed the air around her as she slowly, cautiously stepped over the threshold. The door closed behind her and the plants slithered and snaked this way and that to create a path for her. As she walked forward, a wall of thorns slid into place behind her, blocking the exit.

She gulped and whirled around, suddenly alert and breathing heavily as she sought a way out. A beautiful pink and gold flower bloomed to her left, the petals vibrating as she stared at it in wonder. "Fear not," said the flower. "You are safe here. I will not let the plants harm you."

Only then did Brook realize that it was Yarrow's voice coming from the flower, which slid into the ever moving wall of vegetation that surrounded her along with the rest of the vine it had grown from. With a measure of confidence regained, Brook eased forward some more. The thorns behind her advanced, but the path before her opened more as well. This process continued for a time as Brook carefully made her way through the alien landscape that was entirely the dream of the ancient dragon come alive.

After a timeless period of walking, Brook reached a dome of vegetation that blocked any chance of entry to those who were unwelcome. For her, however, a doorway opened in the wall, and she stepped inside. The vines slid back into place behind her once she was inside and then everything was somehow much quieter. The darkness of the hollow Yarrow had created for himself here in the center of his garden was broken up by patched of soft blue-green light emanating from the walls that surrounded her. The root floor beneath her feet was so thick and knotted as to create a single solid mass. At the center of the room was a four tiered altar upon which rested the ancient dragon.

The sight made Brook forget to breathe. The vines that dipped down from the center of the ceiling wrapped themselves around the dragon, half holding him up as his paws dangled down to fuse with a tangle of roots that seemed to be holding him down. Then there was Yarrow himself. He was much bigger than most of the other dragons she had ever seen. Indeed, he was one of the biggest creatures she had ever seen. It was true, what the people of her village said then, that dragons never stop growing until the day they die.

Brook watched the seemingly sleeping dragon for a moment, but then his eyes opened, the pale green light within them the brightest light in the dome. A vine nudged Brook forward from behind as the sightless eyes stared out into the dome. "Come closer, child. I have some important things to tell you."

Brook stepped closer until she stood at the edge of the lowest tier of the dais. Only then, did Yarrow continue. "Well met, Brook of the cheetahs. I have called you here for a reason of the highest import. Listen well to what I am about to tell you."

Brook watched the ancient and listened. "The dragon race is not one for the healing arts. Only the life dragons have ever mastered the techniques. Over the last few decades, we dragons have come to rely more and more on the expertise of the mole nation when seeking the need of physicians. They are much more adept in these matters than all dragons save myself.

"However, the moles who made a habit of caring for our sick and injured have fled the ravages of the war, and now reside in their own city, Mjölnir, deep below Warfang. The only moles on the surface are the ones sent to aid in the fighting. As such, you and your mother are the only other healers here in the city. Since you have seen fit to rush to the aid of those who have suffered a calamity on the eastern wall, it is to you that I entrust a treasure greater than any other any dragon has ever given to anyone from among the other races.

"What I intend to do here is unprecedented, but necessary, I think, and for a number of reasons. The vast majority of the dragon race lives here in Warfang. There are others outside the walls. Nomads and other such smaller colonies sparsely dotting the land. But I would estimate that nearly ninety percent of our people live here. The first war with Malefor nearly wiped us out, and now we are plunged into a second war against him and his forces, having barely begun to recover from his genocide of his own people.

"I'll put it bluntly, Brook. I fear for my people. We are too meagerly numbered. If we do not take care of what few of us remains, there will be no more dragons. That is the primary reason why I think it is absolutely necessary to do whatever it takes to save those who have been harmed on the wall. Will you help the dragons there, Brook?"

Brook nodded fiercely without hesitation. "Absolutely, your Grace. I have already sworn an oath to follow in the footsteps of my mother. There is no soul I would not do everything possible to save."

Yarrow sighed heavily then and the vines holding him up dipped lower. The roots holding him at the top of the altar released him and he drifted through the air, closer to Brook to hover before her. "Good. That's exactly what I wanted to hear. You and I are kinfolk, Brook. We both walk the healer's path. You are pure of heart, and selfless as any other. That is why I wish to tie my elemental spark to your soul."

Brook's eyes widened in shock at the statement. Her mind went blank.

"I realize that this comes as a surprise, but as I said, there are many reasons why it is necessary. Should you choose to accept it, my spark will grant you the power to heal people as I do, among many, many other things. Under less severe circumstances, I would not consider asking this of you, but the stakes are high here.

"Plus, it has come to my attention more and more over the past few months that there exists a deep seeded distrust between the dragons and the moles, one that has been brewing for thousands of years, and has only recently begun to mature into something beginning to resemble bitterness and hate. This is mostly the fault of the dragons. Our history with the moles is less than savory. We may be a proud people, but the misdeeds of our ancestors are atrocious. We have caused an imbalance in the world by trying to tip the scales in our favor. I believe that this act may be the first step in regaining that balance. The only question I have for you now is, do you accept?"

Brook's head reeled at the implications of everything the ancient dragon had just told her. He was essentially offering to give her his elemental powers. She opened her mouth and let it hang open for a moment while she thought of the words to say. "I didn't even know you could give your powers to someone else."

Yarrow closed his eyes for a moment before opening them again. "It has never been done before. At least not to another sentient life form. Life dragons have the ability to choose where their spark goes when we die. My master, the previous life dragon before me, placed hers inside a tree on top of our library. I have already cheated death once, Brook. I'm on borrowed time as it is. And I am old. So very, very old. I can feel the end of my days drawing near. I am not long for this world. Death will be back around shortly to collect me once again. And when it does, the remainder of my spark will transfer itself to you, should you accept my offer today."

Brook looked up into the eyes of the ancient one and thought for a moment. "How else might it change me?"

Yarrow blinked. "Not much, at first. You shall share my mana. At least that's the theory. It is only once I have passed into the world of the ancestors that you will possess the full fledged powers of a life dragon. And then, who knows? Perhaps you will pass the spark on to future generations of healers the likes of which this world too rarely sees. That's the beauty of life, Brook. It grows when it is shared."

Brook swallowed the lump of excitement in her throat and raised her chin. "I accept your offer, Yarrow. I will hold your elemental spark."

Yarrow slid further down and forward. As he closed his eyes and nosed Brook's forehead, he said, "A worthy vessel, indeed."

A tingle where the dragon touched her traveled across Brook's face, along her scalp, down her spine, and into her chest. It stretched to the tips of her toes and each of her fingers. The hairs on her tail poofed up and she shivered violently for a brief instant. Then it was over. The vines holding Yarrow drew him back up to the top of the dais where the roots reached up to hold his paws in place once more. "It is done," he said. He sounded tired.

Brook tore her gaze away from the ancient dragon to look down at her hands and the rest of her body. She was amazed to find that she hardly felt any different at all.

"Go now, Brook. And take this with you. I have written all that I can think to within it. My contributions are concluded. Be sure to return it to the library when you have finished with it. It is a sacred relic to the dragons."

Brook looked down to where a knot of roots untangled themselves, revealing a book in the floor. She reached down and picked it up, briefly reading its cover as the roots tangled up again. It simply read _The Book of Life_. Brook looked up at the dragon and gave him the deepest bow she could before turning around and walking out of the dome and the garden where her life had suddenly and inexplicably changed forever.

Though she knew in the back of her mind that she really ought to get to the wall and help those in need, Brook couldn't help but sit down on the front steps outside Yarrow's house. The world somehow didn't seem real to her anymore, as if she were experiencing an extremely vivid dream from which she could not awake. The magic was there inside her. She could feel it like a pool within herself that went much deeper than she could fathom. But it was a vague sensation that left her wondering if that's how it felt for all dragons. It wasn't the life changing rush of power she had been expecting. Rather, it was simply as though there was something within her that hadn't been there before. And that made her wonder if she was already in full control of the magic that waited inside her.

Though she knew little about it and nothing regarding control over it, she reached out toward the pool with her mind. The energy welled up in response to her desire for it and she felt it channel down her arms from her chest and out toward her hands. Though they looked no different than ordinary hands, she could tell that the magic was ready and awaiting her direction. Unsure what to do with it, she simply touched the ground at her feet.

Though she sat on solid stone, a flash of green light flickered from her finger tips and sought out the tiniest of cracks in the stonework. Not a second later, a sprout shot out of the crack and a miniature sprig of aloe stared back at her, one of her favorite healing herbs. She put her hands to her mouth to cover her shock, though from whom, she knew not. It was then that the reality of what had transpired in Yarrow's sanctuary hit her.

Her eyes widened in disbelief and she stood then, ready to put the power she had been given to good use. Brook raced toward the eastern wall with renewed vigor. Whether it was the adrenaline that came with the realization of what she was now capable of, or some manifestation of the newfound magic that roiled within her, she felt more alive than ever before. She was bursting with energy, enough to heal everyone on the wall, it seemed. How could she not, with the mana of the oldest dragon in Warfang to power her efforts? This would change everything.

Brook reached the eastern wall and rushed up the steps to the battlements where the defenders stood watch each day. She had to dodge over and past various craters and piles of rubble as she made her approach. It was as if someone had taken a massive boulder and crumbled it in the sky over the edge of the city. The stuff was everywhere she looked.

When she reached the last few steps at the top of the wall, Brook stopped, took a deep breath to prepare herself, and plunged forward, prepared for the worst. With images of dismembered limbs and all other manner of gory carnage sifting through her head, it came as a great surprise when Brook found that most everyone was on their feet. The faint drone that she had thought to be moans of agony was actually dozens of voices making casual conversation.

As she stood there at the top of the stairs, her mouth slightly agape at the sight, several moles walked out of the crowd and began to trudge past her. When the last one leaving was about to walk down the steps Brook turned to it—she couldn't tell whether it was male or female—and asked what was going on.

The mole looked up then and said in a decidedly female voice, "We've just finished healing everyone over here, if that's what you're asking. Now that we're all finished, we're needed in Mjölnir. So, if you'll excuse me."

The mole walked past her and picked up the pace to catch up with her fellows, leaving Brook standing there in bewilderment yet again. "But…how?"

" _I'd like to know that myself,"_ said Yarrow in her head. _"I did not notice these moles' arrival in the city. I was too busy paying attention to our meeting to check in on this area again. It is rather vexing that the moles refuse to communicate with the dragons in regards to matters of defense. It makes coordinating anything impossible."_

" _I'm sorry you shared your spark with me, Yarrow,"_ thought Brook. _"I know you mostly did it so I could help."_

" _What's done is done, Brook. I've made my decision. There's no going back on it now. And besides, I'd really rather not anyway. As I said before, there were other reasons for what I did. You have my blessing to use it to help others and make the world a more beautiful place."_

He receded from her then and she continued to stand there staring out at the crowd of perfectly healthy people. Dragons, moles, and cheetahs alike stood talking to one another regardless of race, each treating one another with the same cordial warmth that all the cheetahs of her village shared. The sight brought a smile to Brook's face.

She marveled at how the moles were able to heal the people after being so close to such a powerful explosion. Someday maybe she would pay a visit to Mjölnir and learn their secrets. But for the time being, everyone here appeared safe. With no further pressing need, she turned around to make her way back down the steps.

However, she no more than put her foot on the first step down than a shout pierced the general commotion of the crowd behind her, causing her ears to perk up. "Hey, Brook! Come on over here and sit a spell."

Brook turned and saw a mole walking toward her. He must have seen the look of surprise on her face for he gave her a sideways glance and pointed a tiny finger at her. "It is Brook, isn't it? I know we've never met face to face, but you look just like Spruce described."

Brook looked over the mole's head and saw her next door neighbor back home give her a cheery smile and a wave. "Ah, yes. That's me."

With a hum of satisfaction, the mole said, "Yes, I thought so. Name's Magnus. Good old Spruce over there has told me so much about you. You're growing up to be quite the hero among your people from what he tells me. Village healer in training is such a noble job to aspire to. It's all about helping people. Helping people in times of need. I can think of nothing grander to do with one's life. I've made good friends with all the cheetahs of your village during our time together on the wall, and in my conversations with them, it has grown abundantly clear to me that your people possess a strong sense of community. And that sounds absolutely wonderful. Won't you come on over and talk a while? I've been dying to meet you."

Brook couldn't help but smile at the mole's upbeat attitude. He radiated a positivity that was almost infectious. "I don't know. My mother is all alone with the kids, and she's probably worried about me."

Magnus waved a dismissive paw at her and said, "Oh, no need to fret darling. Based on what I've heard about your mother, she can take care of a bunch of young ones for a day. Besides, all you've got to do is use Yarrow's connection to tell her you're perfectly safe from right where you stand sure as you were standing in front of her."

Brook tilted her head and looked at the sky. "Oh, yeah. I forgot I could do that. I suppose if it's okay with Mother I could sit and talk with you guys a while."

"Lovely. I'll just be over there by the outer edge of the wall."

Brook searched the crowd in her mind for Ginger, finding her almost instantly. It was much easier to feel out specific people now. She could almost feel exactly where her mother was through the connection. _"Mom? Everything all right?"_

" _Brook? I'm fine. How is everyone? Is it bad? Do you need help?"_

" _It's fine, mom. The moles actually healed everyone before I even got here."_

" _But how could that be? You left so soon. What have you been doing all this time?"_

" _I'll explain later. Something amazing happened to me while I was out today. You'll hardly believe me when I tell you. I'll have to be there in person to show you just so you'll believe me. The people on the wall want to talk to me. Are you sure you're all right without me?"_

There was a moment of silence before Ginger replied. _"Yes, I have things under control here. Just be safe, okay? I'll see you when you get back."_

Brook said her farewell and allowed the connection to fade. She walked over to the edge of the wall where Magnus and Spruce were walking about the best way to prepare lamb. As soon as Magnus saw her, however, that conversation went by the way side and he gestured expansively with his hands and a smile as wide as could be. "There she is. Here to stay for a bit, I trust? Come. I have a seat right here for you." He pat the wall next to where he sat.

Brook was about to sit when she saw over the wall and let out a gasp. "Oh my goodness. What happened out there?"

The view from the top of the wall was like something out of a nightmare. More rubble was scattered through the field for a mile around. And in the center of it all was a charred crater that had to be at least five hundred feet across. The closest edge to the city just barely missed the outer moat. There were dragons in the center of the crater pulling something from the wreckage.

Magnus leaned over the arm, resting on his arms as he surveyed the sight with her. "Amazing what Spyro did. Terrible, but amazing. He destroyed something hundreds of times his size. That's him they're pulling out of the remains of that golem. It looks like he's alive. That's good. I was afraid that he might have sacrificed himself."

The group was so far away, it was impossible for Brook to see how Magnus was able to tell what was going on. Still, she continued to look on and talk with Magnus. "Spyro did this? By himself? That's incredible."

"It's a real feat, that's for sure," said Magnus. He looked down and sighed then. "I'm afraid that dragon's probably in fairly big trouble for what he did. We're all fine, as you can see, so no harm there, and certainly none of us hold it against the poor boy, but I imagine his elders will see this action as a reckless one that could have caused far more trouble than it averted. They ought to cut the lad a break. As far as I'm concerned he saved every last one of us."

Yarrow rose up in Brook's mind then and spoke. _"Brook, can you do something for me?"_

" _What's that, Yarrow?"_

" _I need to know in more detail what happened here."_

" _Why don't you just ask Magnus or any of the others?"_

" _Because for some reason I can't seem to connect with any of them. It's as if there's something blocking me from accessing their minds."_

Brook relayed this information to Magnus who put his hand to his face with his thumb against his cheek and his finger under his chin. "Hm, what a quandary. There was a massive explosion caused by Spyro's dark magic. Then the next thing I knew I was waking up with a medic from Mjölnir hovering over me. They injected everyone up here with a nanite solution to repair our sight and hearing. Perhaps the nanites could be interfering with the life magic Yarrow employs? The only other thing I can think of is that some sort of residual dark magic is affecting Yarrow's abilities."

" _That seems to be the more likely case,"_ said Yarrow in Brook's head. _"How annoying. Now I'm cut off from the eastern wall until whatever is causing the interference has abated. What to do?"_

Brook thought for a moment before sharing an idea with Yarrow. She did so aloud so as to keep Magnus and the others at least semi aware of the conversation. "I have an idea. Let me ask my mother if I could come to the eastern wall to relay messages until you can connect with them again."

" _Are you sure? I don't want to trouble you, Brook. I know you have your own responsibilities back at the barracks."_

"It's no trouble. I'm sure once she knows the reason for my absence she'll be more than happy to agree to it. Mother takes care of the children just as well as I do, so I don't think she'd miss the extra help."

" _Thank you, Brook. Your kindness knows no bounds."_

Brook used the mental web Yarrow wove together to reach out to Ginger and pulled her into the conversation. "Hey, mom."

" _My, we certainly are busy today. What is it this time, hm?"_

Yarrow's mind surged to the forefront of the collection of thoughts, his presence vast and unmistakable. _"Hello, Ginger. This is Yarrow."_

Ginger's mind balked at the ancient mind that spoke directly to her for the first time. _"Oh, my. Hello, your Grace."_

" _Brook has informed me that she is willing to stand watch on the eastern wall to perform non-combat related duties for me provided you are agreeable to the arrangement. She will be relatively safe, considering danger rarely reaches the wall, and if it does, she'll have my permission to take flight. Due to complicated circumstances, she is the ideal candidate to help me communicate with the forces there until certain effects preventing me from doing it myself wear off. Do you find this suitable?"_

Brook felt her mother nodding where she stood in the barracks, not that the gesture was necessary since Brook could also feel the general sense of agreement coming from her mind through the link. _"Yes, absolutely. That's what my family was put in this world for. We have always devoted ourselves to helping out wherever we are needed most."_

" _Thank you, Ginger,"_ said Yarrow, clearly pleased with the response. _"That will be all."_

The connection with Ginger died away and Yarrow rounded on Brook. _"That settles that then. And thank you, Brook, for agreeing to do this for us."_

Once Yarrow receded from her mind, Brook shared the plan with Magnus who clasped his hands together in delight. "I think that's a splendid idea. And don't you worry a bit about the fighting. I think I speak for everyone here when I say we'll all fight tooth and nail to make certain nothing ever happens to such an innocent young girl."

A chorus of agreement was shouted around Brook, forcing yet another smile upon her face. The cheetahs she knew, but the moles and the dragons here seemed like such wonderful people, too, and the thought of getting to know them in her time of service among them excited her. It was certain she could learn much from not one, but two different cultures.

She took a seat on the edge of the wall, seeing as it appeared she was there to stay. "So, what do you all do up here all day, then? I've heard stories from my friend, Wylee, when he used to come back from the wall each day. Usually things were pretty boring from what I understand. Very little gets up here to the walls, so the manning of the wall seems mostly just a precaution, to be present if something does make it through."

Magnus crossed his legs and leaned back against the rough stone of a crenellation. "You're right. The dragon made defenses out in the field and the mole built ones here in the city and along the edge of the wall are enough to hold most everything at bay. But sometimes things can still get through, much like all those nasty golems nearly did. Without anyone watching the wall, no one would know such things were upon us.

"That said, most of us just talk the days away, play games to pass the time, and so forth. But as you can well imagine we run out of things to talk about fairly quickly. Mainly it boils down to what transpired last night after leaving the wall. Still, we manage to whittle away the hours with idle conversation. Having you here will certainly freshen things up a bit. Tell us a little about yourself."

Brook shrugged her shoulders, tucking her head in a bit in an instinctive effort to avoid attention. She never did like having all eyes on her. "Well, I don't know what I could tell you that Spruce here hasn't already."

Spruce leaned forward and cheerily waved her comment away with a flourish. "Oh, come now, Brook. Surely you don't mean to imply I know everything there is to know about you. I know the village has always been a tight knit community, but you've got a life of your own. What about that prodigious boy you're always picking on, eh?"

Brook's eyes widened and she felt her face go hot under her fur. "What? Wylee? What about him?"

Magnus leaned forward, his forearms resting on his thighs and let out a tiny noise of teasing interest. "So you've got yourself a boyfriend, hm? I hear he's the prize winning catch among you cheetah folk as well. How lucky you are."

Brook jolted upright, her back stiffening as she gently pounded her fists against her knees. "Wylee's not my boyfriend," she said louder than she intended.

Several cheetahs nearby roared with laughter, some of them slapping their thighs to boot. This made Brook's face grow even hotter than before. "We're just friends. Just friends. And besides, he can be a real jerk sometimes. He thinks he's so smart because he's the village Upsilon and everyone looks up to him. That ego of his can be so big sometimes, I wonder how there's room in that head of his for anything else. Why would I want to be his girlfriend?"

Magnus laughed along with Spruce and the rest of the dragons who had joined in now. "You mean aside from what you just said? I may not be too familiar with all the cheetahs' customs nor your culture."

Magnus gave Spruce a wink before continuing. "But you, young lady, have just shown your age. You clearly know little of how such relationships start out. Why, when I first met my wife, you know what she thought of me? She called me an arrogant…well, perhaps best not to say in polite company, but I can assure you, it was not the sunniest of first impressions. Let's see, we've been married twenty-three years now. Sometimes happily, other times not so much."

"Yup," said Spruce as he put his feet up on the wall. "That's how it goes. Nothing's perfect, but that's what makes life so interesting, don't you think?"

"Indeed," said Magnus with a nod. He looked back to Brook who was still simmering quietly in her seat. "He's that boy who left with the dragon younglings yesterday, from what Spruce tells me. Do you miss him?"

Brook looked down and watched as the edge of the battlefield began to shimmer, spitting out more of the lesser grublins to resume the daily harassment of the eastern wall. The dragons pulling Spyro out of the rubble managed to dig the last of him free and pulled him into the air and away from the tiny yet numerous enemies. They swarmed forward in an endless, teeming mass that looked more like a writhing, frothing sea than anything.

If they hadn't of pulled Spyro out of the wreckage when they did, he would have been overwhelmed, completely helpless and at the mercy of all the terrors that stalked the lands outside the protective walls of Warfang. Brook felt something tickle her cheek and touched the fur there. She was surprised to find it wet with tears.

Magnus stood and stepped forward to clasp Brook's hands within his own. She looked down into the oculars of the mole whose grip was much firmer than she would have guessed. "He'll be fine," said Magnus in a soothing and reassuring voice that made her believe him. "He's a strong, smart young man. And he's traveling with the most powerful dragon of the latest generation, who has already once proved himself to be an equal match against the dreaded Malefor himself. Don't you worry about him for a second, lass. He can handle himself well enough."

Brook nodded and wiped the tears on the sleeve of her shirt. She did not yet trust herself to speak, and so sat there while Magnus grasped her hands tightly. When she took a deep breath, he let go and hopped back several feet in one bound, landing back on his seat on the wall. She cocked her head at the sight. "Wow, I didn't know moles were so acrobatic."

"Some of us are more gifted than others, you might say," said Magnus with a twinkle in his eye.

The dragons carrying Spyro soared overhead, the drumbeats of their wings thudding into Brook's chest and ears as they neared. They swooped down and landed with him between them. Everyone kept their distance, seemingly aware for the need for space. Brook watched from a distance as Noh and Terrador worked together to maneuver Spyro's body into a comfortable position. Once he was in place, they walked over to where Magnus and Spruce sat with Brook. Terrador angled his head down to face Magnus and said, "We need to find some way of contacting Yarrow so we can let him know of Spyro's condition."

Brook stood and bowed at the waist to the Earth Master before standing up straight once more. "Hello, Master Terrador. My name's Brook. I've been stationed on the eastern wall as a go between for Yarrow and the rest of the forces here while the residual dark magic of Spyro's attack fades away."

Terrador gave Brook a crooked, toothy smile, which seemed odd, considering she had never seen him smile before. Not that she had been around him much before, but everyone always talked about him like he was all business. "Then in that case, can you tell Yarrow that Spyro is alive. His heartbeat and breathing seem normal, but he's out cold, most likely sleeping off the toll his attack took on his body."

Brook relayed the information to the ancient dragon. He then thought his reply back to her, directing his thoughts through her, rather than into her, using her as his willing mouthpiece once he had her permission to do so. It felt strange, having someone else's words come out of her mouth without telling her body to do the talking, but it was easier than being the middle man.

"How serious were the injuries caused by the blast?" asked Yarrow through Brook, his voice overlapping her own.

Noh stepped up next to Terrador and shook his head. "Nothing life threatening, and nobody will suffer permanently. In fact, everyone has fully recovered thanks to the wondrous miracle substance provided by the medics from Mjölnir."

Brook felt her brow furrow. "Even still, what Spyro did was reckless at best. The results could have been disastrous. His total lack of restraint and complete disregard for the safety of those defending the wall are nothing short of appalling. Inform me when he awakes. I have words for him."

Magnus jumped to his feet and looked up into Brook's eyes. "In his defense, the alternative results of his inactivity would have been far more severe. He saved our lives, Yarrow. Once again, he has proven himself to be our hero. Sure, he couldn't get the job done perfectly, but the creature was closing in on us. There was no time to evacuate the area. Spyro did the best he could with the circumstances he was provided. He is to be commended for his swift, decisive action in my personal opinion. He weighed the risks, and did what he thought was best for the city. That's his job, is it not?"

"It is. But his gamble could very well have cost the lives of everyone on the eastern wall. The whole point of defending this city is because it is a safe haven, the greatest bastion the allied forces of Avalar have. Without those who seek refuge here, there is no point in defending Warfang."

Terrador raised his chin and stared down his nose at Brook. Though the gesture ought to have looked condescending, he instead appeared thoughtful. "With all due respect, war is not without risks, Yarrow. Everyone on the wall is aware of the risks of being here. And I dare say Spyro knows them better than any of us. You may be an ancient, Grand High Elder, but hear me. I beseech you, consider the wisdom of the crowd on this matter."

Brook felt his eyes glance from Terrador, to Noh, to Magnus. She then scanned the rest of the crowd around her. Dozens of pairs of eyes stared back at her, each mirroring one another. Some gave nods, others in the back shouted, "Give him a break."

Brook sighed and looked away. "Very well. If that is all, I shall recede."

"No more to report, sir," said Terrador.

Brook felt Yarrow leave the part of her mind that controlled her body. She felt her muscles relax, and she shakily walked back over to her seat on the wall. "That was weird. Having him use my body like that is going to take some getting used to."

"I'm surprised he did that to you," said Terrador. "Yarrow has never felt too comfortable using another's body like that, even with their permission. He always said it's frightening how easy it is to control another person."

Brook shrugged her shoulders and said, "Maybe he feels comfortable with me because part of his spark is inside me."

That turned heads.

"Come again?" said Noh.

Brook looked up at the dragon elders and saw the look of surprise on their faces. "Yeah, I was surprised, too, at first. I guess I still am, actually. After the explosion, I rushed over here to help, but Yarrow called me to his garden. He wanted to tie his spark to my soul so I could heal people more effectively. But by the time I got here, everyone was already on their feet. Still, Yarrow doesn't seem to regret his decision.

"Anyway, maybe the reason why he doesn't mind using my body is because I have a part of him inside me. When he talks to me now, I kind of get the feeling I already know what he's going to say. We're connected. It's going to take me some time to get used to that connection and learn enough about it to know all that comes with it. I suppose this ought to be a good place to start." Brook reached into her backpack and pulled out _The Book of Life_.

Brook looked up and forgot to breathe. Everyone on the wall was staring at her. They all had the same look of shock mixed with something else. Fear, maybe? Whatever it was, it only lasted for a couple seconds. Most of the dozens of dragons, moles, and cheetahs looked away from her and began to talk to one another again, each individual voice drowned out by the crowd. Only Magnus, Spruce, Terrador, and Noh continued to stare at Brook with undisguised surprise.

Terrador leaned down and looked at the cover of the book. "It really is the _Book of Life_. I read it once when I was younger. If Yarrow gave it to you, then what you say must be true."

There was a brief moment of silence while Terrador appeared to be looking for the right words. It was Noh who found them. "I didn't even know dragons were capable of tampering with their own sparks."

"I didn't either," said Brook. She pulled her knees up under her chin and hugged her legs. "But then, I don't know much of anything about dragons. Most of it I've heard from Hunter's stories of his time traveling with Spyro and Cynder. You're such amazing creatures. I've never really had that much interest in magic before. Mostly because I always knew I'd never have any. But now that I do, I'll certainly enjoy learning how to control this."

Brook reached down and tapped the stone next to her, causing moss to radiate outward from the contact before halting, leaving a circle of green a foot across. "There are so many practical applications of such power for a healer. Having Yarrow's spark inside me is going to make me the greatest healer the cheetahs have ever seen. Imagine. I'll be able to create healing herbs on demand. Oh, what am I saying? I'm not even going to need healing herbs anymore. At least not once I've learned how to use it like Yarrow does."

Spruce stood then and walked over to Brook. He reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder. She looked up and saw a tremendous grin on his face. "It's good to see you smile again, Brook. When Wylee went away with his dragon friends, I thought you were going to mope and pout until he came back. Now you have something new and exciting to experiment with. You deserve it. No one is more suited to receive this gift than you."

"Here, here," said Magnus with a raised fist. "I may have only known you for ten minutes, but I couldn't agree more. I think I speak for everyone here when I say you've clearly got that special something about you. I already like you. And I don't like anyone. That's what the wife always says anyway. I'm too cynical, she says. And for good reason. There's an awful lot rotten with the world, and the vast majority of it is manufactured by the people we have to share it with."

He leaned forward and placed a paw on Brook's leg then. "But you, lass. You've got an air of otherworldliness about you. An ethereal aura. It's in your attitude and the way you carry yourself. You're too good for this world, I'd say. It's a breath of fresh air, just being in your presence."

Spruce let out a booming laugh and reclined in his seat once more. "Wow, Magnus. Laying it on rather thick aren't we? Tell her what you want, now you've got her all buttered up. Or are you just in a particularly good mood today?"

Terrador and Noh used their wing tips to poorly disguise their mirth as Magnus sputtered on the spot for a moment clearly flustered at the accusation. "I'm being serious, here. The girl's an absolute treat. Wouldn't trade such good company to have my wife up here." He turned and looked over the edge of the wall. "Or maybe I would on second thought."

Spruce swat him on the arm, "Oh, stop it, you. That's terrible."

"What?" said Magnus with a cheeky grin. "I was only joking."

Brook couldn't help but laugh at the light-hearted banter between the commanders of the eastern wall. She laughed and laughed until she had to double over, holding her stomach. It wasn't even that they were all that funny. They were just terribly good company themselves. They made her feel welcome among them, as though they were all lifelong friends and today was just another day of lazy conversation, just like any other. Never before had she felt such belonging, just sharing these simple moments with them.

"Thank you, Magnus," she said as he and Spruce took turns trying to get the last hit on one another's arms. They stopped and looked at her. "That's really sweet of you. No one has ever said such nice things to me."

"What?" said Magnus in surprise. "Not even your boyfriend?"

Brook puffed up her cheeks and glared at him. "I told you he's not my boyfriend," she said, though she tapered off toward the end, not really believing the sound of the words coming out of her own mouth.

"Whatever you say, lass," said Magnus with a wink and a gleam in his eye. His face changed then to something a bit more serious, though he still retained his jolly composure. "So, tell us more about this exchange between you and Yarrow. That sounds just like the juicy sort of topic our conversations so desperately lack the majority of the time.

The others seemed interested to hear more on the matter as well, so Brook recounted the whole tale about the meeting with the Grand High Elder. They interrupted her frequently, though not unkindly, to ask many questions, causing the conversation to diverge down many related paths. They ended up talking the day away in that manner, offering conjecture about the magical properties of dragons and what effects sharing them with other races might produce.

Eventually the sun was on the horizon, silhouetting the many buildings of the city and casting long shadows both within the walls and out over the battlefield. The grublins down below turned around and fled back into the portal before in vanished from sight with one final shimmer. Then all was quiet in the field below.

Once the portal closed, Magnus stood and stretched his legs. "And so ends another day defending the city from evil. That wasn't so bad now was it? The hardest part is finding way to pass the time and we had no trouble at all with that thanks to you, lass."

Brook clasped her hands together and bowed at the waist. "Thank you all for being so kind to me. I'm so happy to be able to call you all my friends. I can't wait to come back tomorrow."

Spruce chuckled and said, "Oh, you won't be saying that for much longer. It gets boring up here, trust me, Brook."

"I can't imagine that," said Brook with a smile.

Magnus pointed back toward the city. "You'd better get a move on home, lass. Your presence is required at dawn. You'll want to get up earlier than you have been watching those kiddies from your village."

Spruce gave Brook a reassuring nod. "I'll come wake you in the morning if you're not up yet. We can come to the wall together."

"Thank you, Spruce."

"Don't mention it. Now come on. Let's get out of here. Don't want to waste another precious second on this blasted wall." And together Brook and Spruce dashed away, waving over their shoulders as they disappeared in a blur as all cheetahs tended to when taking off at a run.

XXX

When they were gone Magnus looked over at Terrador and Noh. "I'd say that went well."

Terrador watched as the two cheetahs disappeared into the distance. "We're walking a fine line keeping her nearby, though, aren't we?"

Magnus waved a paw and said, "Nah, it's fine. She trusts us. We did a good job. She won't use Yarrow's magic on us even when she finds out."

"That's not what we're worried about," said Noh.

"Ah, yes," said Magnus as the thought swirled through his own head as well. "Her direct line to Yarrow will alert him as well. And we all know he's more inclined to take action than she might be."

"We'll have to take precautions," said Terrador.

"Don't you worry about that," said Magnus. "I've conferred with the rest of the moles, and we have an elegant solution. No one has to get hurt. Quite literally as a matter of fact. Both cause and effect."

"Ah, I see what you're planning," said Noh with a bemused tone. "How ingenious."

"Yes," said Magnus. "The problem will solve itself, so long as we stick to the plan."

"And what about him?" said Terrador. They all looked over at Spyro, who still had not woken from his slumber. "Wouldn't it be simpler to welcome him while he's asleep?"

"Perhaps," said Magnus in a thoughtful voice. "But that's not really our call now, is it? We have our orders, and they come straight from the Creator himself. We are not to coerce anyone into joining us. We must let them come to us."

XXX

Brook lost the race to the barracks with Spruce, which she found most astonishing. While she was by no means the fastest cheetah, she had always been able to out distance Spruce in long run sprints with relative ease. Now she stood in the yard bent over with her hands on her knees trying to catch her breath. "I don't…believe it. You've never…been able…to beat me…before."

Spruce struck a pose with his biceps flexed and said, "I've been working out. It's all right, Brook. I'm sure you'll be able to beat me in a race again someday."

"Hah, yeah. When you're old and gray, and I've still got a little spring in my step."

Spruce placed his hands on his hips and gave her a pout. "Hey, who you calling old? I'm only forty-five. And that's not what I meant. I mean maybe someday you'll be faster than you ever thought you could be."

"Oh, yeah? How's that?"

Spruce spread his hands out with a flourish and said, "Magic."

"I don't think it works that way, Spruce."

"You'd be surprised what magic can do," said Spruce.

"Really? And what do you know about magic?"

"Not much," said Spruce with a shrug of his shoulders. "But I've seen a lot of crazy stuff happen on that wall. And nothing crazier than what happened today. I tell you, Brook, the more time you spend around dragons, the more you learn."

"I can believe it. Okay, I'll see you tomorrow. I have a lot to talk to mother about."

"You sure do. Just don't forget to get some rest. We're up at first light, and I'm not leaving without you. I'll carry you over my shoulder if I have to."

Brook waved him away as she walked past him and stepped up to the barracks. "Thank you, but that won't be necessary."

She opened the door then and was immediately assailed by a wave of children. They all shouted with glee at her return and grasped at the edge of her shirt, each one of them trying to gain her attention. "All right, all right. That's enough. Yes, I've missed all of you, too, but I'm tired from the day and I have to get up bright and early tomorrow. I have a lot to talk about with my mother right now, but we'll all play games tomorrow evening when I return from the wall, okay?"

They all walked away from her then, leaving her in the open doorway. Her mother was sitting on a cot near the back wall next to Glen, the only cub who hadn't rushed to the door upon her return. His feet were still bandaged from his accident earlier that morning. That seemed like such a long time ago now. It almost felt like another lifetime.

Brook walked down the rows of cots and sat down on the one next to Glen's. Her mother was telling him an old fairytale about a young cheetah girl who befriended a young man from another race, a wolf. Brook recognized the story from when her mother told it to her as a child. The cheetah girl was charmed by the wolf's overabundance of charisma and grew terribly close to him. They wound up having cubs and the girl was banished from her village for breaking the interspecies taboo. The young wolf then left her to care for their children all on her own.

The purpose of the story was twofold. It impressed upon children the severity of the taboo while also teaching them to be careful where they placed their trust, for you never knew who might betray you. When her mother was finished with the story Glen looked over at Brook and said hello.

"Hello, Glen," said Brook with her motherly smile. "I need to talk with my mother alone now. Would you like to go play with the rest of the children?"

Glen shook his head and looked down at his feet. "It hurts to walk."

Brook looked at his bandaged feet as well and gestured with a finger. "Let me see your feet. I'll make them all better."

Ginger gave Brook a bewildered look as Glen happily rested his feet in Brook's lap. "I just reapplied some ointment and changed the bandages. He's healing as well as he can."

Brook unraveled the bandages as her mother continued to ask her what she was doing. She looked at the cuts in the bottom of Glen's feet. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, willing the magic inside her to the surface. It was more than willing to leap to the ready. She very nearly reached out and touched Glen's feet, but Yarrow rose up in her mind and stopped her.

" _Wait, Brook. Life magic is as tenacious as nature itself. It takes a skilled mind to direct it, so that it does not take root and spread in unintended ways. Let me guide you so you do not hurt the child by mistake."_

Brook let Yarrow reach inside her and hold her hands and her will with his own. He moved her hands and her thoughts slowly, showing her what he was doing and explaining why as he did so. When she touched Glen's feet, the magic sprung forth excitedly, but Yarrow held it back with strict control, sternly granting it permission to manifest in one particular way to only a certain degree, and no more. The magic felt deflated, almost as if it was disappointed, but obeyed. A flash of pale green light flickered from Brook's fingers and into Glen's wounds. A couple seconds later, they were completely closed up, not leaving so much as a single scar to commemorate Glen's unfortunate accident.

Glen and Ginger both looked up, mouths open wide in astonishment. Then Glen jumped to his feet and gave Brook a tight hug. "Wow, you're amazing, Brook! I didn't know you had healing magic. I'm going to go tell everyone."

He ran off then, shouting to his friends as Ginger continued to look at Brook in complete disbelief. Brook bent her legs under herself and said, "You're not going to believe what happened to me today."


	8. Chapter 8-Just Tinnitus

Chapter 8-Just Tinnitus

The youngling fire dragon awoke from his slumber and crawled out of the lava pool, streams of fiery, golden liquid dripping from the black crystal armor that covered his body. Though born to the name of Arragor, he had donned the identity of War for his master, just one simple demand among a pawful of other, more pressing concerns. Addressing himself as War was a matter of little consequence. In fact, he rather liked the title. It made him feel powerful and feared, things that one of his standing deserved.

As the last of the heat from the lava bed wafted off the invisible barrier his armor coated his body in, a sulfurous stench mixed with iron and dust filled his nostrils. It was the smell of the mines and the volcanic vents that riddled Munitions Forge. The small cavern War had turned into his own private quarters lay at the center of the labyrinth somewhere between the peak of Boyzitbig and the lower levels of the mines. Boyzitbig was the ever active volcano that loomed over the island of Munitions Forge, puffing huge gouts of vog into the air.

The tunnels and caverns that extended deep into the mines were so expansive expedition parties comprised of multiple apes were still sent deeper in an effort to find more supplies to aid in the campaign against Warfang. The mines went so deep it was almost impossible to explore them all due to the effort and resources it took to maintain a supply train for the leading edges of the expedition teams. The reports given to War by his advisers each day informed him that those deepest in the mines were a good week's journeying from the surface.

Everyone in the expedition teams had to constantly be replaced due to a madness that would overcome them after several weeks trudging through the self same tunnels far below with no fresh air or sunlight. The amount of time it took to replace them made the matter even more difficult. By the time those who had gone mad reached the surface, they were dragged out by their fellows, some staring blankly up at the sky, their eyes glazed over, others raving and raging at anything that moved. It was unsettling work. And War's advisers had appealed their case to him repeatedly that the expeditions were far more trouble than they were worth, but still he demanded that they map the entirety of the tunnels.

There was no shortage of apes to send to the tunnels despite the vast numbers that were sent to the battlefield outside Warfang each day. They were a particularly fruitful race that had prospered over much in Malefor's absence. Still, it was starting to become a problem finding more apes that were proficient in the art of cartography. Their job was perhaps the hardest of all, for they had to decipher a way to inscribe a three dimensional map on paper while spending weeks in the tunnels. These were the ones who often went mad.

Still, War demanded that the tunnels be mapped completely. His advisors never questioned him, yet it was apparent that they all thought the venture to be a complete waste of time and resources.

War walked through the tunnels and into an adjacent chamber from his own, which served as the headquarters for his advisers. Several apes sitting at a small table designed for moles stood at attention when he entered the cave. His second in command, a burly ape three times War's size saluted and said, "Good morning, sir."

"At ease, Stoker. Daily report."

Stoker lowered his arm and sat back down at the table. We're continuing the assault of Warfang as per your instructions, though the efforts are still unsuccessful. Warfang's wall has yet to be breached. The Mine Crawler you sent in yesterday was destroyed before it could reach the wall. There were no enemy casualties, yet again." An edge worked its way into Stoker's voice as he gave the report.

War sat down at the head of the table and motioned to a servant for food to be brought. "Go on."

Stoker looked down at a series of papers that littered the table in front of them. "Another cartographer was pulled out of the mines last night. A replacement was sent in a week ago when the lantern messages indicated that one was needed. We have received confirmation that he has reached the leading edge of the expedition team, though reports seem to indicate that he already shows signs of restlessness from the week's journey in."

A roasted leg from one of the buffalo scorpions that lived in the mines was set in front of War and he began to feast. He spoke through a mouth full of meat to Stoker with a distracted air of mild concern. "Have more cartographers been queued up in the eventuality of their leave of senses?"

The rest of the advisers looked at one another for a moment before turning to Stoker, who gave War a thin lipped expression that was impossible to interpret. "We have started a tutoring program. What few cartographers we have remaining are teaching others how to do it, so that we do not have to comb the ranks of our people for more to send to the tunnels. It takes so long for them to get to the front lines of the expedition teams, so by the time they get there, the tunnels are already quite oppressive to them. They are getting less and less work done with each rotation. So progress in this venture is becoming exponentially slower, while the rate of resources being dumped into the project is increasing at an almost equally faster rate."

A withering gaze from War made Stoker look down at the maps of the tunnels as though he were scrutinizing them. Another of the advisers clasped his hands together and said, "On the upside, some of the expedition teams have encountered dead ends, or met up with one another, revealing loops in the tunnels. This has eliminated the need to continue the supply trains to some of the branches of the expeditions. Provided the lower tunnels don't continue to branch out so extensively, we should narrow the teams down to just a mere handful in no time."

War nodded and swallowed. "There's some good news." He leaned down to take another bite of his breakfast. Then the humming rose in his ears. He stopped, closing his mouth, and looked down at his armor and then all around the cavern. Ignoring the curious glances of his advisers, he stood and nearly toppled the servant that stood by his side as he walked around the room, looking this way and that. He pressed his ears against the walls, took a few paces and put his face to the floor for a moment, then walked several more steps and cocked his head toward the ceiling. The humming stopped.

War narrowed his eyes and stood absolutely still, listening for the resonate tone that followed him every second of every day. It was always there; just barely audible enough to make out if he listened for it, but sometimes it rose and was easier to make out. The sound had plagued him ever since he had arrived at Munitions Forge. Malefor had blamed the machinery that littered the mines, but War was not so convinced of this notion. What made it so maddening was the fact that he had no idea where it was coming from. That and no one else seemed to be able to hear it. He would always ask other apes who were around when it rose, but none ever seemed to understand what he was talking about.

The only clue War had ever received about the noise was that it seemed a hair louder the further down into the tunnels he went. Perhaps, he thought, the further down he went, the easier it would be to find the source and finally put a stop to it. Though, he knew he could not tell his advisers this. They would think him mad.

In support of this theory, one of his advisers cleared his throat and called over the table to where War stood. "Are you all right, sir?" His advisers were accustomed to his sudden attempts to discover the source of a noise that only he could hear. He did so multiple times each day.

He turned his head to regard his advisers with a look of malcontent. "You mean to tell me you don't hear that?"

"Hear what, sir?" said another of the advisers, feigning ignorance.

"That humming!" Everyone winced at his shout. "That insidious humming that taunts and torments me each and every day."

"I keep telling you, sir," said Stoker with a deadpan expression, "it's just tinnitus. Munitions Forge is a loud place. Perhaps you have suffered some mild hearing loss, which can sometimes cause ringing, roaring, or humming sensations in your ears."

"And I keep telling you, Stoker, it's coming from somewhere. And when I find it, I'm going to silence it once and for all. Maybe then I'll finally be able to relax and find some peace for once."

None of the advisers said anything. War slowly stalked over to the table and resumed his meal, taking a few long draughts from the tub of fresh spring water delivered for him. "Is that all then?"

Stoker summed up the remaining details of the report, including a record of their resources lost and gained over the course of the last day. More had gone out than went into their stocks, though Stoker noted with a somewhat forced air of detachment that the loss of troops would help to compensate for this.

All of the advisers looked down at the table, silently remembering the many who had fallen outside the walls of Warfang. One of them looked up after a moment and turned to War. "Sir, what are your plans to make some headway in the campaign against Warfang?"

No one said anything. Stoker stood and walked to the edge of the room. War quietly chewed the bite of scorpion in his mouth and swallowed it. He took a drink from the tub on the floor at his side. When he raised his head over the edge of the table to regard the adviser who had spoken, they were the only two still sitting at the table. Spitz was his name. He stared back at War across the table while the other advisers continued to shuffle slowly toward the edges of the cavern.

War placed a paw on the table and leaned against it casually as he smiled warmly at Spitz. "How do you mean?"

Spitz continued to look War in the eyes, though he stumbled over his words a bit in response. "It's just that we've laid siege to the city for four months now. Thousands of our people have died outside the walls of Warfang, and not a single ounce of progress has been made. Our people are out there each day, dying for the cause you and Malefor and the rest of your friends have been talking about. A new, perfect world with a special place for the ape nation when the dust has settled. And I've just been thinking, at the rate things have been going, by the time everything's all ironed out, there aren't going to be any apes left for this new world of yours. We haven't taken the wall, we haven't killed any of the dragons or those who occupy their city. There has been no retribution for the lives we have put into the cause, nor footholds made by their sacrifice. What are we doing out there, sir? What are we supposed to do to get ahead? When are we going to stop dying for no reason?"

War sat at the table and thought for a moment, regarding a particularly fascinating whorl in the table. The wood under his paw began to smoke, though he paid this no mind. "An apt question, that. And your concerns do have merit. Why do your people seem to be dying outside the walls of Warfang for particularly no reason? The way you talk about it, it's almost as if that's the idea." The wood around his paw began to blacken as the smoke drifting upward began to thicken.

Spitz stuttered for a moment, though he still maintained eye contact. "N-no, sir. I didn't mean to imply—"

"Oh," said War with a cheery grin and a claw pointed directly at Spitz. "You implied it."

"I misspoke. I merely wished to know what more we could do to prevent these meaningless deaths and to advance our achievement of our goals."

"I have my orders from Malefor. I merely pass them down. Questioning me is tantamount to questioning the Dark Master."

"I do not question you, General War."

War slammed both paws down on the table and rose up, his end of the table catching fire. "Do not contradict me, Spitz. I have no patience for insubordinates."

Spitz lowered his head and screwed his eyes shut. War stared him down for several seconds and let the flames around his paws go out. He lowered himself to the floor once more and swung his paw across the table top, knocking the burnt remains of his meal against the wall some twenty paces away, and causing another of his advisers to duck out of the way. When the burning anger dimmed down once more, he said just loud enough to be heard across the table, "I shall go to the battlefield today. It has been too long since I've let off some steam. It would be good, I think. Both for my nerves and for morale."

Spitz looked up in disbelief again, though he dared not say anything after apparently escaping the wrath of War. The rest of the advisers slowly shuffled back toward the table and unceremoniously took their seats as though they were about to engage in some light conversation. Stoker was the one to speak next. "That is most gracious of you, sir. I think it a splendid idea. It has been too long since you've left the caverns. They can get to anyone, as you well know. Plus, those along the wall of Warfang could use a reason to stay on their toes. The Mine Crawler was one thing, but your presence the day after will keep the pressure up. I dare say we might even see some blood on the other side for a change, what with Spyro and Cynder still recovering after their exploits yesterday. I know the troops will be overjoyed to watch you lay waste to the southern wall."

The rest of the advisers were quick to offer their support of this motion. Goaded on by their cheers and words of approval, War stood and tapped the chest plate of his armor, calling up a great surge of Amophis to create a personal portal. "All right, then. To battle."

XXX

Death walked through the courtyard of the ruined castle that stood tall at the heart of Dante's Freezer. Long dead soldiers of the land now served him thanks to the powers that his black crystal armor gave him over death. They stood at attention as he strolled by, enjoying the brisk chill of the polar wind and the delightful crunch of the freshly fallen snow under his paws.

The island was too far north for most creatures to inhabit comfortably, but for an ice dragon it was a paradise. The cold was no more than a gentle summer breeze ruffling the azure scales of the general of the north. One of the few discomforts of the land was the lack of reliable food. Only small rodents that were mostly fur and fat were able to survive in the frigid climate that Zar, or rather, Death so preferred. His soldiers who kept watch around the grounds would hunt for him, giving him the leisure time he desired to pursue much less mundane adventures.

One of his primary hobbies, which consumed the greater portion of his thoughts and his time, was probing the icy caves where he had found his personal body guard, Dante. The giant of an undead man of ancient and unknown race, for Death had never cared to ask, walked behind the dragon as he made his way toward a shattered staircase that lead to the ramparts along the wall around the keep. He was also accompanied by his second in command, a soldier he picked up from the wastes called Vorath the Render. They did not usually speak unless spoken to, for there was little to say when so little happened.

In keeping with its chilly nature, Dante's Freezer was almost frozen in time. Everything lay broken and scattered about, as though some long past war had ravaged the land and nothing had ever disturbed the remains. It was quite remarkable, really, how untouched the land was when he had first arrived four months ago. And though he had dominated the will of the undead soldiers the land so mysteriously reanimated of its own accord, it still felt as though his presence had done little to nothing to change the island. It was a dead place, full of dead things, the not-so-final resting place of thousands of soldiers, more of which he still discovered and bent the will of each day during his rounds about the island. Memories had been forgotten here. Life itself seemed to edge away from Dante's Freezer even before Death's arrival. Everything was cold and still and silent. Most of the time.

Death shook his head as a brief ringing sounded in his ears, and he instinctively bent his head toward the courtyard to stare at the ground below. He stopped, halfway up the stairs where the ruination was greatest, and only a narrow ledge up against the wall still remained. "Do you hear it?" he said over his shoulder.

As usual, Dante said nothing. Death had come to the conclusion that speech was beyond him. Vorath sighed and shook his head. They had had this conversation countless times. It was a topic of great curiosity among them all. But then Vorath just inclined his head to meet the general's gaze. "I do, my lord."

Death continued up the stair as the sound dimmed once more to the barely audible hum in the back of his head. "And you've no idea what it is or where it's coming from?"

"No, my lord."

"Pity," said Death as he crested the stairs and looked out over the island. It was a vast one with a veritable terrain. There were canyons that cut between shelves in the landscape, mountains much like the one his castle was built upon, and deep chasms that cut like jagged scars across the island, stretching down into a dark, unseen abyss. Apparently, the war Death's soldiers died in was not the only violent thing that had happened here long, long ago.

At the other end of the castle wall, the sea could be seen stretching away into the far north, where the White Isle, home of the fabled Chronicler nestled serenely in the middle of a massive barrier of unimaginable strength known as the Northern Divide. The source of the barrier's power was something of a mystery to Death, for he was forbidden by the Dark Master from attempting an attack on the White Isle. Such an undertaking would apparently only result in utter failure. Not that Death would be able to interact with whatever created the shield of unparalleled power anyway. Whatever it was, it resided inside the bubble. Otherwise, Malefor would have sought it out and destroyed it himself.

Still, he felt compelled to do something about it. The Chronicler posed a serious problem for Death and the rest of his friends. Already, the oracle's prophetic powers had interfered with fate's design. For when he so chose, the Chronicler could reach into the dreams of others and tell them of events to come. He primarily did this to avert disasters of global proportions, such as the undertakings of the Dark Master.

Death clenched his claws, tearing away another crumbling segment of the wall on which he stood. According to a message sent a couple days prior, Malefor believed that Wither and his friends would attempt to contact the Chronicler. In response, he wanted Death to defend Dante's Freezer by any means necessary as it was the only viable means of accessing the White Isle. Already, a blockade spread across several islets leading up to Dante's Freezer was set up. That way Death would hopefully have a five day warning of their impending arrival.

This time he would be prepared. Death twitched his nose, recalling the pain Wither had inflicted upon him the last time they met. Oh, how he ached to kill him, but Malefor would not have approved. His orders were clear. He wanted Wither alive. Still, there were other orders to consider as well, leaving space for vengeance. Special preparations had been made for Renna. She was apparently of nearly equal importance to Malefor. Just as when Death had questioned Malefor on how he knew Wither was coming, when he asked about Renna, Malefor had simply said that it was no concern of his.

That was fine by Death. He did not particularly care why Renna or Wither were of interest to Malefor, and given his powers, it took little imagining to guess how he found out about their little adventure. But it did bother him when Malefor treated him as an underling. Death knew that he was one, to be sure, but being treated as such caused such a blistering in his soul. It was a rankling knot of hate and malcontent that threatened to breach the surface and boil over into action.

But no. Such thoughts had to be suppressed until the time was right. The Dark Master was infamous for his world shaking powers that had brought him back from death twice already. That alone was unnerving enough to give Death pause, but then there was the fact that Malefor himself had given him his powers over death. He was not at all of the impression that he would be able to slay his master once his intentions were out in the open. Despite his ability to kill with a mere touch, Malefor would certainly destroy him if he tried. This realization only served to amplify his thirst for blood.

The ringing rose up to the fore of his mind once more as he mulled these thoughts over yet again while staring out into the frozen wastes that surrounded his castle. He closed his eyes and listened intently, trying to pinpoint the source of the nearly imperceptible sound. It taunted him just as Malefor did, just as the Chronicler did, just as the strange life force underground in Dante's Freezer did. None of them were within his grasp. All of them lay outside his power. He wanted to reach out into the world and order them all beneath him like concrete objects so he could reach out and pierce them with a single claw, one by one, touching them with his power, and snuffing them out, so he could reanimate them and become their master.

The ringing rose in crescendo, almost becoming a definite noise in the real world, no longer a phantom tone in his head alone. But just as he cocked his head toward the direction he thought it was coming from, it died down and nestled down in the back of his mind, barely noticeable, once again.

Death opened his eyes. He was pointing the side of his head toward the ground. His scales bristled and he reached out with his mind, feeling out all the tiny specks of life that skittered across the island. They were all so tiny, fragile compared to a dragon, and yet resilient to survive even in the harsh, unforgiving cold and oppressively hostile aura that seemed to permeate every inch of the island.

Each one felt like the dim flicker of a candle flame compared to the roaring inferno that raged inside himself. They were lesser creatures, these rodents that scampered through the snow and nested in the ice. The only purpose they served was to provide him with sustenance, and even then, they were a paltry meal, mostly fat and fur. It took three or four at once just to sate his hunger. Their presence here was an affront to his superiority. This was his home, and he was Death, the final and ultimate master of any who wandered the land of the living and the other world thereafter. Their tenacious grasp on life was suddenly appalling to him, as though it somehow lessened how impressive it was that he found the place so comfortable. They were disgusting creatures that did not ask for his permission to live in this land, and did not even have the courtesy of serving him well when dead.

Truly, they were useless beings with no purpose in this world. They just went on living for the sake of living, eating to carry on and eat the next day, sleeping to rejuvenate their bodies for the hunt, mating to multiply so that the processes could repeat itself ad infinitum. They were a cog in a machine that served only to keep itself spinning. A cancer, really. A virus.

Death held hundreds of the little flickers of life in his paws as he stared out across the island. Then, with a single wave of his paw, blew them out. Instantly, a tremble of glee and satisfaction wriggled within him as the island grew just a hair more peaceful, the silence just a touch more pervasive, the air just a breath more solemn.

Vorath and the others felt the power leave him, miniscule though it was, and turned to look at him as he stood smiling wistfully at the island. Death's second in command rested a bony hand on the wall next to Death to catch his attention and spoke in his hollow, rattling voice. "It feels better when you give in to the urge, doesn't it?"

Death looked over his shoulder, his usually collected face mottled with consternation for once. "How do you mean?"

Vorath waved a hand, gesturing out toward the island. "When you kill, I mean. It feels better."

Death frowned at Vorath's obvious statement and let out a puff of air through his nostrils. "Of course it does. They were annoying, infuriating actually."

Vorath looked out over the wall and nodded in understanding. "That's exactly how we're made to feel."

Death looked at Vorath, thinking he was referring to his own hold on his troops. But then Vorath clarified. "The island, I mean. Before you came. It makes you angry at the living. It makes you feel like killing anything that dares to walk these lands. And it makes you feel good when you do. Kind of like getting the last word in a heated argument. I see that being among the living has done nothing to shield you from its influence."

Death blinked. Then he laughed, something he rarely did. "I killed them because I wanted to. Nobody tells me what to do. I am master of my own will."

Vorath clasped his hands behind his back and assumed a submissive stance. "Of course, my lord."

"Besides," said Death, ignoring his lieutenant's sudden complacency, "I wield dominion over death. It is my place to take life whenever and wherever I see fit. I do it because I can. Does a cheetah ignore its speed? Does a mole tuck its brilliance away? No, they use their skills and their powers to their advantage. They use these things to establish where they reside in this world. Just as the dragons use their magic to claim their rightful dominance over the lower races. Just as I, in turn, shall use my powers to claim dominance over the rest of the dragon race. A king among kings, as it were. What then, does it matter, these scrawny lives I took on a whim, when I've such bigger things planned for such bigger beings? It means nothing in the face of what lies ahead. I've made a decision to kill those who stand against me. And you think to tell me something else influenced me to kill these puny, worthless, no good squirrel rats?"

Vorath stood calmly next to Death as the dragon let out his rage at the very idea that he was some higher being's pawn, merely moving in time with strings pulled by unseen forces. After a moment of silence, Vorath quietly lowered his head, conceding to Death's point. "I'm certain you are the master of your own destiny, my lord. All I'm saying is that fate always has other plans for us. You should be aware of what we soldiers experience here in this cursed land. It may have some bearing on your decision making as well, unbeknownst to you. Why else, I wonder, would you have so hastily destroyed a vast portion of your only readily available food source?"

Vorath turned and walked away then, leaving Death alone with the ever silent Dante. Death watched him steadily make his way back down the ruined portion of the stairs into the courtyard. Once he was gone, Death frowned again. Though this time, it was an expression of concern. He looked out over the fields of snow and ice, devoid of any movement that might betray the presence of prey to quiet the rumblings of his stomach. He wanted to be upset at the realization that Vorath was right in that he hadn't considered his need for the creatures after all, having gotten caught up in the notion that they needed to be eradicated. But for the life of him, no emotion in regards to the matter would come to him. He just felt cold.

XXX

Famine's muscles trembled with the effort of his task. He sculpted the earth in the quarry just outside the old Atlawa city that he now used for his headquarters. The quarry was a massive pit that he himself had carved out of the ground, using the rock to create more experimental grublins models and to supplement his army as he tunneled further into the immense rocky pillar that supported the heart of the Tall Plains. These tremendous, mile high pillars that rose from out of the waters of the Infinisea that surrounded the mainland of Avalar had a surprisingly thin layer of topsoil. After a mere ten feet of digging, the dirt gave way to dense stone of various make such as onyx and obsidian, the very stone that was Obsidius' namesake. Though the Obsidius he used to be felt a distant dream. He was General Famine now.

Famine drew on the power of his armor to enhance his magic over the earth and affect change in the landscape well beyond the point his mana should have run out. As the power flowed out of the black crystal armor and into his body, channeled toward that special place in his heart where his elemental spark resided, his weariness drained away and he felt strong once more. No amount of work, no matter how laborious could wear Famine down. He was as tireless as any machine the moles had ever invented. His body no longer seemed to require so much rest, nor was the food he used to crave such as important as it used to be.

Indeed, Famine could scarcely remember the last time he had eaten or slept. He had been in the quarry for so long, digging and tunneling and carving and shaping, that it all seemed a blur to him. Had it been several hours or moons since he struck out from the chamber where he had feasted on the remains of the Atlawa to begin excavating the area that felt most appropriate for his project? If he bothered to think back, he could almost recall seeing the sun and the moon switching places over him in an inexorable race through the heavens above. But he was so focused on his work that it could hardly be thought of as more than his imagination. Surely it was only this morning he had begun his digging.

It was dark in the quarry as Famine looked up from his task to gaze up at the lip of the dig site. Everything was in shadow down here, so deep the sun could reach the deepest depths of the pit for only an hour or so around high sun. Sure he had dug far, but that was no surprise, given the amount of power his armor gave him. It was no problem clearing massive quantities of the earth away and using it to fuel the army that needed so very many troops. There was a quota that had to be filled if he was to keep his enemies on their guard.

That part was actually quite easy. The shaping of the grublins almost seemed to take care of itself without his focus. He merely carved piles and piles of rubble and boulders from the earth into the space behind him as he dug. All he had to do after that was fling his power backward at it with a tiny thought that flickered forth each time it was needed. He had done it so many times now, it was instinct.

Famine rarely looked back, though when he did so, he always saw the light of the sun in the aperture of the pit, which funneled down to more of a narrow shaft the further down it extended. The grublins he created to fill the ranks of his army effortlessly tunneled through the earth, up the walls of the quarry and out into the sun where they would join the campaign against Warfang as they were commanded.

His mission was a tireless one, offering no reprieve, not that he felt he needed one. Each time he felt like giving up on his task, he would draw on the power of his armor and become instantly rejuvenated and ready to continue until the next time he needed to withdraw the power from the crystal. The single-minded determination of his efforts was something that he was vaguely aware of as he dug on further into the darkness of the rocky pillar, much like the touch of awareness one feels when hallucinating in bed with a soaring fever.

At several points into the project, Famine had actually worked up the mental presence to ask himself why he was digging this pit in the middle of the jungle, on top of a rocky pillar a mile in the sky, far from the coast, out in the middle of the ocean. It seemed such a pointless venture the more he thought about it. Not to mention the fact that at no point had Malefor even instructed him to begin digging this hole to nowhere.

It was at such times when Famine would take a break from the monotony of building up his army with the typical grublins, and take it upon himself to experiment with the rock in ways that Malefor had not shown him during his brief stay in the fiery magma vents of Mount Genesis. Malefor had been pleased with his first batch of new grublin models, something that had excited Famine to no end. Always he had wondered back in Warfang what it was he wanted to do with himself. Everyone needed a passion, though in the dragon city he had never been able to find one for himself.

It was only once he was away from his old life and the constraints of his parents and his elders that he had found the freedom to put his passion into an art form that would have been unavailable to him without Malefor's powers to bolster his own. But the true blessing was that Malefor was actually impressed by his creations. He had even gone as far as to call them genius. A giddy feeling unlike anything Obsidius had ever felt coursed through Famine on that day. No such praise had ever fallen on his ears while in Warfang.

Everyone thought he was stupid. No one had ever believed in him. Sure he had been top of his class in Terrador's earth training, but in all other aspects of his schooling he had failed miserably. Nothing short of brutish strength had ever been expected of him, not even by his own so called friends. Arragor had regularly made it known that he was the boss of their little group and that meant that he, Obsidius, ought to leave the thinking to the professionals. In his short time as a general of an army, he had already proven himself a more competent warlord than any of his other youngling companions. Malefor himself had said so, eliciting even more of that delightful giddiness his praise had given Famine.

Perhaps that was why he dug so tirelessly, working without pause to build up his army and wreak new creations for his master. He felt he could count on Malefor to appreciate his devotion to the cause as well as his endless creativity. He yearned for Malefor's approval, to hear him support his actions with genuine gusto and little encouraging comments. It was certainly more than anyone in Warfang had ever done for him.

Not even his parents had ever given so much as a job well done on anything he had ever attempted. Always they had pushed him to try harder, to catch up with the rest of the younglings in his generation, to get on their level so that he wouldn't get left behind. 'You have to do it faster,' he could hear his father saying as Famine ground a boulder into dust.

'You need to try again,' his mother's faintly remembered suggestion whispered in the back of his head as he sent a wisp of power into the rocks behind him.

But no matter how hard he had tried to be something he was not, Obsidius had never measured up. Obsidius had never pleased. Obsidius had never been good enough. No more.

Now Famine was the greatest of the four disciples. Now he was left to his own devices, trusted to do what he pleased with his time, for Malefor thought him so gifted that whatever he chose to do would result in greatness. For the first time in Famine's life he felt like the ever yawning hunger for recognition could actually be sated. All he had to do was keep digging. Keep shaping. Keep creating. Eventually Malefor would come back and see the unparalleled dedication he displayed and shower him in those delicious praises all over again.

A clumsy grublin climbing up the wall knocked a stone loose and sent it tumbling down on top of Famine's head. The stone bounced off the helmet of his black crystal armor and clattered to the rocky floor at his feet, catching his attention for a moment. That brief distraction was enough to break the spell of his monotonous excavation. He stopped digging and sat down. Then he lay down, suddenly fastened to the earth like a lead statue. His muscles felt like fire and acid, and his body was so heavy Famine did not think that he would ever be able to rise again. It was crushing, as though his form was collapsing inward upon himself, yet he did not, could not move.

How had he pushed himself this hard? It was impossible to think that he had managed to keep going to this point, and that he would have kept going, heedless of his exhaustion, were it not for the distraction of the stone that had fallen on his head. He lay on his side staring up at the top of the shaft with one eye. It could have been an illusion due to lack of depth perception, or a simple hallucination considering the state of his body, but it looked to be nearly a mile away.

There was almost no light down here in the inconceivable depths of the pit he had somehow dug impossibly deep. As the minutes crept by, the light faded. Twilight came all too quickly down here. As a matter of fact, the more Famine became aware of his surroundings, the more he realized that he could hardly see a thing. The darkness was greater than he had realized before. How had he managed to even see what he was doing in this blackness?

Famine closed his eyes, the lids nearly the only movement he could control. What was happening? Was this a dream? It had to be. It was the only explanation. He was just fine moments ago. He had been digging mountains of rubble free from the earth. How could he be reduced to a limp, helpless youngling in a matter of seconds?

 _Is this how I die?_ thought Famine, as he lay in the cool darkness, his body burning despite the chill of the earth. _What's happening to me? How do I get out of this? I don't want to die. I want to live!_

Just then, the buzzing in the back of Famine's head rose up, making its presence more noticeable. Famine had forgotten that it was always there, in the back of his mind, so low it normally went ignored. Now the sound took precedence here in the calm and the quiet of the pit so like a grave. It filled him up, banishing the silence that had previously been accompanied only by the ravenous heaving of his lungs.

It gave him strength, gave him a distraction. With the sound so powerful in his head, he could think of nothing else. His weariness forgotten, he rose to his feet, his muscles no longer shaking, the burning a buried memory. His desperate lungs slowed and took in air at a moderate rate once more.

Famine turned back to the stone, unable to think to do anything else, and continued to dig, his mind once more focused on the praise that he would receive from Master Malefor at all the hard work he had done. The buzzing in his head continued for a time, until it, too, was forgotten in the drone of claw and scale and crystal grinding against rock.

XXX

Pestilence watched it all through the eyes of the Phylum. They were all pleased to look where he wanted them to, so that he might observe from the vantage point of a thousand bodies. Some of them humbly offered him their superior wisdom, granting him the knowledge required to make more intelligent decisions. It was the wisdom of the dragons along the eastern wall of Warfang that had convinced him to set in motion the secret backup plan that would open new avenues for him to end up on top in the future.

None of his friends or his enemies, not even Master Malefor knew of this plan. The Dark Master would most likely see disloyalty in the actions he had taken to ensure that he would be safe no matter the outcome of this war. His powers were great, his army was greater, and his confidence was unshakable. Still, caution was a must. This, the moles along the eastern wall had agreed with once he had connected with them and they had discussed the best course of action to protect the Creator against the consequences of his actions should Malefor fail in his campaign against the dragons.

For defeat seemed almost an inevitability once he had access to the knowledge of what the moles had in store for them. They shared the previously closely guarded secrets openly with him now, eager to warn him against the terrible danger of their limitlessly expanding knowledge and the resulting power that it gave them. They used it to create tools and weapons that far outclassed anything ever created in Avalar. Some of that weaponry had already been unleashed on some of the superior forces his friends had sent against the city, but the worst of the worst was hidden in the earth deep below Warfang, held back to be used in surprise attacks that would devastate forces Pestilence would have previously considered unparalleled.

The general of the west walked freely through Warfang in dozens of bodies, keeping his closest subordinate, Helix, with him. Helix would occupy the bodies of those next to him, traveling along the mental network with him, always at his side. They were free to drift from one member of the Phylum to another, controlling their actions at the pleasure of their willing host until they moved on to another host if need be. The transitions were smooth and seamless. Their minds flowing like beads of morning dew down the strands of the web. Not uncommonly, they would jointly occupy the same body, or observe through multiple ones at the same time.

It was an easy way to interact with his enemies. And it would have been all too easy to take over everyone in the entire city. But still, unlike his friends, Pestilence had reservations about going all out against his home and his people. They had never done anything wrong, really. Most of them were actually innocent people who just went about their daily lives, doing what they loved. Trying to force a way of life upon them that they did not understand was a bit invasive.

It was necessary to try to stop Wither's friends from whatever they had planned. They represented an imminent danger to their operations, as Malefor had explicitly stated when he informed all of his disciples that they were on the move. If he didn't try to stop them, then they might destroy his chances to help the world. Malefor and the rest of his friends may have their visions for the world, but Pestilence had his own dreams. He could make the world a better place by bringing the people in it closer together. And what better way to do that than by convincing them that they wanted to join the Phylum on their own?

He would fight against the other armies should the need arise. He just needed to bide his time and wait a little longer for a key opportunity, a moment of truth when it was apparent which side would win this war. If Malefor overtook Warfang and the citizens within, he would add the people there to his collective by force. But if Warfang were to win…

Pestilence needed a back door. An escape route to evade the persecution of those he had betrayed back home. If it was discovered that he had been a double agent working for Warfang all along, yes. Then they would accept him with open arms should Malefor and the rest of his friends fall. Sure, he had done some terrible things already, but he had yet to actually kill anyone. The worst thing he had ever done was make everyone in the city sick. But even that could be worked to his advantage.

'I had to be convincing,' he would say. 'I only ever did what I absolutely had to. I never seriously hurt anyone without fixing them up. Sure, I destroyed Volteer's paw. But I used my powers to fix him up, too. Sure, I nearly killed Cyril with the first strain of my infection, but I made certain he would survive the attack. Malefor needed to think I was on his side. So did you. That way you wouldn't hold back against me. What better way to convince him of my loyalty? And come the day when the final battle raged, who was it who bestowed incredible strength on the forces of the eastern wall who, on my command and with my coordination, fought off the vast majority of the enemy hordes?'

It was the perfect defense. Plus, it would ensure that he would ultimately get what he wanted. A world full of love and unity with himself at its heart. No matter the outcome, he would wind up on top, though secretly, he rooted for his home and his people. He wanted them to win. He wanted peace to prevail so that things could go back to the way they were when he was Xath. Only this time they would be better than before, because there would be no more misunderstandings between neighbors. Everyone would be the closest of friends, inseparable as brothers and sisters.

Many would want to join the Phylum when they saw the level of depth their connection had. They would not be driven away by the fact that they were given a choice to join. And in time, when most eventually did, those who still remained separate from the Phylum would be a pitied fraction of society that would be inducted to end their suffering in a world that they no longer felt a part of.

The acceptance of the Phylum from those on the outside had to start somewhere, though. That Brook girl from the cheetah village was a promising candidate. She was young, naïve, trusting, and good natured. Not to mention she was apparently bonded with Yarrow's elemental spark now through some new trickery thought up by Yarrow's ancient, conniving mind. If the Phylum gained her acceptance, she would serve as a convincing advocate for their cause.

Already, he liked her. He considered her a friend, though she was yet to understand the nature of their friendship. Pestilence found the conversations between her and the others in the Phylum most enjoyable. He drifted between Magnus, Terrador, and Noh observing her and listening to her as they talked with her on her first day of wall duty. Sometimes he would even slip to the fore of their minds, taking over to converse with her himself, though she was none the wiser. He would have to be patient to reveal himself to her.

At night he watched her through Spruce's eyes, eager to talk to her more, but he was content to drift in the web of the Phylum instead, conversing with all of the minds that swam together as one. It helped to stave off the loneliness that had enveloped him during his stay in Concurrent Skies. Though his body still resided in the tower chamber there, he rarely moved, too interested in the goings on in other areas to concern himself with the dull drudgery of manning the desolate castle and the barren crystalline wastes that surrounded it.

It was not as though he couldn't focus on all of the thousands of viewpoints simultaneously. His transformation upon his connection to the Phylum had made that second nature. There was simply nothing to do at his home base, so why waste precious attention focusing on it? Helix was hard at work shaping the land into a more suitable habitat capable of providing the most daunting defenses the blood dragon could devise. There was no need for Pestilence to bother himself overseeing the work anymore than he already did when he looked through Helix's eyes.

Even so, there was one important order of business Pestilence wanted to get to the bottom of, literally. There was a secret cellar in the castle that Helix had discovered not long after his arrival during his work expanding his influence over the territory. The stonework of the castle stretched onward into a labyrinthine network of tunnels that grew more decrepit as they extended into the earth. There were many traps and obstacles within the mysterious maze under Concurrent Skies that impeded progress into the seemingly endless passages. The further in Helix's chosen explorers went, the more the crumbling stone gave way to natural rock that had been crudely carved out to continue the passages.

The maze irritated Helix to no end, for he saw it as a threat to the Creator. If it opened up somewhere outside of Phylum controlled territory, it could provide enemies with a means of infiltrating their headquarters. That was an unacceptable potential weakness that could not go unanswered. Wherever the tunnels led, Helix was dead set on exploring them to their end. If any weaknesses to their defenses were discovered, they would be dealt with. An opening could be caved in or heavily guarded. Though it would be preferable to not waste resources protecting something that was unlikely to be discovered, for there were no known records anywhere throughout the knowledge of the Phylum pointing to the existence of secret passages leading into the keep at the heart of Concurrent Skies. Still, it was better to be prepared for anything.

Pestilence occasionally liked to slip into the minds of those Helix had sent into the maze and directed therein. It was a curiosity to him. The tunnels extended mind bogglingly far. Though they branched out in thousands of places and each branch had to be explored to its end, the leading groups of Phylum that had ventured the furthest into the maze were already several miles underground. It seemed unthinkable that anyone could have ever built the tunnels. Thousands of lifetimes must have been dedicated to the effort. And despite the utter devotion that had been granted to the task, the tunnels appeared to serve no apparent function. They had no purpose that he or anyone in the Phylum could decipher, though the moles in Warfang had theories on the matter.

Apparently, there were similar tunnels that spider webbed the earth deep beneath Mjölnir. And at the end of those tunnels lay the ancient structure which they referred to as the Arcane Atrium, which housed a never ending power source that they called the Spark of Science. It was a mystical force that had endowed the mole race with the capacity for limitless understanding and the uncontrollable desire to explore new frontiers despite the fact that they were incapable of breaching the inner sanctum inside the structure.

Little more was known about that place, but Pestilence felt that it may have some sort of connection with the tunnels that extended beneath his castle. If there was a similar structure that contained a limitless power supply, Pestilence could use it to augment his power and further extend his influence in the world. Perhaps it would even grant him the power to stand against Malefor as the moles could. If another power such as that of the moles were to rise against the Dark Master, there would be little hope that he would succeed in reshaping the world to his whims. Pestilence could save his people, further establish his power in this world, and begin focusing even more on uniting the people of the world under the banner of the Phylum. If a power like that existed under Concurrent Skies, Pestilence would not hesitate to put it to use.

At first, Helix shared his concerns that this was a pipe dream born out of wishful thinking, but he was given pause when Pestilence realized that the further into the tunnels the Phylum ventured, the louder the droning in his head became. The whole Phylum could hear it and feel it in the Creator's head whenever he slipped into the minds of those in the maze. It filled them all with a giddy excitement.

The droning was always present here in Concurrent Skies, just quiet enough so as to remain unnoticeable for the most part. It had driven Pestilence crazy at first, because he had no way of discerning where it came from. But now that he knew the source was somewhere at the end of the tunnels below, he was convinced that there was something powerful down there, calling out to him, waiting for discovery after eons of isolation, buried deep within the earth.

As the droning in his head steadily intensified day by day, his excitement grew. The sound of it was soothing, an ever present promise of things to come. He sat in his tower chamber watching the lands that surrounded him, watching the wall for Warfang, exploring the depths of the tunnels below. Everything was coming together. He was safe, he kept his true enemies close like friends, and he was in position to redeem himself in the eyes of his people and spread the joys of his unifying power with the whole world. His time was coming.

XXX

Malefor fidgeted nervously in the Pit of Mount Genesis as Amophis filled the air. It was the day after the major assault on Warfang. It had failed, much to Malefor's surprise, though he had not given up on his campaign. Warfang's victory just made things more interesting. There were plenty of other plans to be set in motion. Even so, Malefor did not enjoy failure.

He lowered his head in something of a deferential bow, though he stood alone in the Pit. "My master, for what reason do you grace me with your presence?"

" **To celebrate."**

Malefor faltered, caught off guard by the unexpected response. "Celebrate, master?"

" **I have succeeded in bonding to Wither. He has broken the fourth seal. We are together now, which means we are much closer to achieving our goal than ever before."**

Malefor smiled, gladdened by his master's good fortune. "Then another route to victory has opened. Even if I fail, there is still Wither to finish our work."

" **Just as was intended. It shall be him who does it. You are nothing more than a distraction. A means to this ultimate end. Without you to provoke him, this might never have happened. And without you to provoke him further, there might be nothing to drive us closer together. There are forces at work that strive against us, even now.**

" **See to it he faces impossible odds in this little game you've started. He needs me to overcome adversity. But no surprise attacks. He is a treasure beyond compare, and not to be harmed."**

"I would not dare," said Malefor without hesitation. "I understand his worth."

" **I seriously doubt it. You cannot comprehend what he means to me. Such understanding is beyond those of the world."**

Malefor lowered his head once more, silent.

" **But I did not come to you to measure your capacity for understanding. It is inconsequential whether you understand the meaning of what we do. So long as you do as you are told, nothing more is required of you."**

"Yes, master," said Malefor. "Is there anything that you require of me now?"

" **I want a progress report on the search for the sleeping ones."**

Malefor raised his eyes and looked around. "You are unaware of our progress? I thought you knew all that—"

" **I am blinded to the locations of their resting places as a safeguard to prevent me from breaking our pact, though those wretched beings plotted against me even as they spoke their empty promises. I may have had the pleasure of shattering the greatest among them in return, but the others are still out there somewhere. They pose a serious threat to our plans. They must not be awoken, lest they draw the attention of my children away from their true task. That is why we must find them first.**

" **I ask once more. What news have you?"**

"None. They have been hidden for so long. Any records of their existence, let alone their actual locations, can reside in one place only."

" **The Celestial Caves of the White Isle. There, too, my sight fails me. One of the shards must reside there. It is the only explanation. Tell the vessels to continue their attempts to prevent the warriors prophesied by the old ones from reaching the Chronicler. It is the only way to deny them access to knowledge that would leave us at a terrible disadvantage. You shall fail. It is inevitable. But any efforts against them shall slow them down and provide more opportunities for increasing our chances of success."**

"I shall see to it, master."

" **Good. I leave you to it."**


	9. Chapter 9-Friend or Foe

Chapter 9-Friend or Foe

Renna stood with her friends in the cooling night air of the Mira Desert, surrounded by burning corpses. The smell was foul, forcing her to wrinkle her nose in disgust as she stared at the fire dragon that had helped them against the infected troops of Xath's design. The fire dragon had called himself Quincy and was now staring at their group with a look of wonder on his face and his paw awkwardly outstretched toward them as if in some sort of greeting.

He was certainly colored like a fire dragon, his body awash in reds, oranges, and yellows. His wings were ashen in hue, the leathery membranes blending in with the darkening skies better than the rest of him. His tail spade came to a point in a simple shiv, and his horns splayed outward, the two largest of which came out of the top of his head just above his ear holes with smaller ones running down his jaw line until a slightly larger one jutted out under his chin. But his most notable feature, Renna decided, was his pink eyes. That was something you didn't see very often.

As Renna wrinkled her nose at the smell of burning flesh and infected animals, Quincy looked her up and down with his eyes, his paw still extended and his smile wide as ever. "Wow, you are incredibly dirty. I know a place where you can wash up if you want."

Tera moved forward a bit and said, "If you mean the river, it's too dangerous there. The creatures will find us for sure."

Quincy finally lowered his paw and shook his head. "Nah, man. I'm talking about the oasis. It's pretty secluded, and the creepy dog nightmares never seem to be able to find it. I guess because the desert is so huge and all. They must just overlook it."

Sora perked up and gingerly cut in. "There's an oasis? Can you take us there?"

Quincy placed his paw up just above his eye and puffed out his chest. "Aye, aye. Best keep to the ground, though. The nightmares won't be as likely to see us if we stay in the dunes."

The fire dragon turned and set off at a brisk march through the sand, checking over his shoulder to make sure they were following him. "I'm Quincy, by the way," he said yet again.

Renna and the others introduced themselves hastily, aware that they had been a little rude not to sooner. Once they were acquainted Quincy looked up at the dune in front of him and plunged his head into the sand. Renna exchanged questioning glances with the others at Quincy's odd behavior before looking back at the fire dragon.

He pulled his head out of the dune and took a left. "This way," he said in a singsong voice as he capered onward.

"Man, oh man, am I excited to meet you guys. You're the first civilized company I've had in months. I was beginning to wonder if it was just me and the nightmares in this desert. They don't make good company as I'm sure you've noticed, but they're pretty easy to avoid if you've been around them long enough. They're not all that smart. It's like they all share the same brain or something."

Renna watched Quincy skip happily along as he talked a little too loudly for her comfort all the way through the canyon. "Wait. You're all alone out here? Why?"

Quincy slowed down and sidled up next to her, waving a paw around wildly for emphasis as he answered her. "Because, silly. No one lives in the desert. Though, I don't know why. It's freaking awesome. The sand gets super warm and cozy during the day, the oasis has plenty of water, there's an overabundance of sandworms to hunt, and the nights are peaceful and quiet."

Quincy looked up at the sky and sighed. "I never knew there were so many stars until I started traveling. You couldn't see them through all the smoke back where I used to—"

Renna looked back down from the stars to Quincy. His eyes were glazed as though he were looking at another world altogether.

"Live?" said Roxy from Quincy's other side.

Quincy blinked and gave Roxy a wide grin. "I do out here, that's for sure."

Tera leaned forward and tapped Quincy on the shoulder. He looked back and met her gaze. "Did you say something about there being food out here earlier? Our original plan for getting through the desert involved fishing in the river, but that's out now that the creatures know to be looking for us there."

Quincy pursed his lips together in a thoughtful expression. "Yeah, there're sandworms galore out here. Just go grab one."

Tera frowned a bit and shook her head slowly. "Sandworms? Where can we get those?"

Quincy stopped and looked at Tera as though she had just said the oddest thing. "I mean, they're everywhere. Just grab one. Like that one." Quincy pointed to the sand at Tera's paws.

Tera looked up with a flat expression. "Are you making some sort of joke?"

Quincy shook his head from side to side. "No."

He stepped forward and plunged his head into the sand again. This time, when he raised his head there was a wriggling brown worm the size of Tera's foreleg in his mouth. He bit down hard and it went limp. Once the worm was dead he placed it back down and said, "Can't you feel them?"

Renna leaned her head forward, unsure that she had heard him correctly, but her friends' reactions told her they had all heard the same thing. "You mean you can feel them moving in the sand?"

Quincy turned to Renna and suppressed a chuckle. "Sorry, you're just so dang grimy. You're going to love the oasis. The water's the clearest I've ever seen. But yeah. You guys can't feel them disturbing the ground at all?"

Everyone shook their heads as he looked around at them in surprise. "Huh, I guess I just have a lot of practice detecting seismic vibrations. It's an important skill to have. Otherwise you never know when you might dig a tunnel into a magma vent or introduce structural instability to your tunnel and cause a cave in."

Renna stared at Quincy as he rambled on freely about who knows what. Roxy scratched his head and said, "What's all that about tunnels?"

Quincy grinned again and waved a paw at him. "Oh, nothing. I just like to dig. Or more like I'm just really good at it. It's practically all I ever did back—"

Quincy stared off into the dunes at the far end of the canyon, the wind blowing bits of dust across the ground.

"Home?" said Roxy in suggestion.

Quincy's eyes came into focus again and he pointed a claw at the sky. "Capital idea. Let us make haste to the oasis. It's this way. I think."

Renna felt a twinge of doubt as the fire dragon continued to lead the way through the dunes. "You think? You mean you don't even know where we're going? The oasis could be anywhere. The desert is huge."

Quincy waved a paw over his shoulder. With his snout held high in the air he said, "Not to fear my filthy friend. The oasis is super easy to find. Frankly, I have no idea why those nightmares can't seem to locate it."

"But we're just traveling in a random direction that feels right." Renna looked to her friends for support. Maybe they would simply chose to move on without this nomadic loner. He had been helpful in a pinch, and he had given some useful tips on surviving in the desert in just the few moments they'd been walking together, but this Quincy seemed off somehow.

But of the three of them, only Roxy met Renna's eyes, her concern for their wellbeing reflected in his own. He turned to Quincy and cleared his throat before padding forward to walk next to the fire dragon. "What makes this oasis so easy to find if you aren't even sure where it is?"

Quincy shrugged his shoulders and shook his head from side to side. "I don't know. Every time I try to leave the desert, I always sort of just…end up there."

Now Renna saw frowns of puzzlement cross Tera and Sora's faces as she scanned them from behind the boys. They remained silent while Roxy probed a little more into the matter.

"End up there how, exactly?"

Quincy shook his head even more vigorously this time and repeated his earlier uncertainties. "I don't know. I've tried leaving the desert before, but every time I try I eventually just wind up in the oasis. It really has me stumped. I mean, it's not like I choose to keep going back. I don't even remember how I got there once I realize where I am again."

Roxy blinked. "Okay. So we're just going to keep walking through the desert until we eventually find ourselves in some sort of magical oasis that suddenly appears around you? Maybe it's a cursed location? Though, it takes some pretty serious magic to be able to do that, especially if the entire desert is caught up in the spell. Hm, no. It doesn't seem too likely. Do you have any more details on the place?"

Quincy flashed Roxy a toothy smile and started down a list. "Let's see, there's grass by the shore of the pool in the center that's super soft and comfy to sleep on. There's tons of scrub brush to hide you in case of nearby enemies. There are coconut and banana trees, which make a pleasant change from the sandworms from time to time."

Roxy closed his eyes for a moment and shook his head and a paw at Quincy, motioning him to stop. "No, what I mean is, is there anything else you can remember that might help us find the place?"

Quincy raised his chin up proudly in the air as he pressed forward with all the confidence a dragon could display. "Nope."

Roxy's tail drooped at the reply and he looked over his shoulder at the rest of the group. Renna decided she had had enough of this. They couldn't afford to march blindly through the desert following a strange dragon who apparently had the wit of a river trout. As she sidled up next to Quincy and took a breath to speak, he whirled around and nearly pressed his face right up against her chest. The movement startled her so that she reared back with a tiny 'eep' that escaped unbidden from her throat.

"I really like your necklace, Renna," said Quincy as he gazed wistfully at the null crystal set into the clasp, his nose barely an inch from the unassuming artifact of devastating power. "It's pretty. And spotless despite the state you're currently in. How curious."

Renna scoffed at the fire dragon's remark, forgetting her previous thought and raised herself up proudly. "I'll have you know that all of this," she gestured expansively at the dried mud all over her body, "was entirely intentional."

A burst of laughter met this declaration, something Renna was not expecting. Her brow furrowed even deeper than before as Quincy practically roared at the statement. She didn't know whether she should be embarrassed by his reaction, or fearful that more of the creatures would hear them and come looking. "Will you shut up," she said in the loudest of whispers. "Those things are going to find us."

Quincy let out another chuckle before looking on either side of them at the peaks of the dunes. "What? Nah, man. The contours of the dunes disperse most of the sound through whatever canyon you're in, and the density of the sand causes it to absorb whatever remains. Nothing's going to hear us unless they're in the same canyon as we are, no matter how good their hearing might be."

Renna looked at Quincy as he spoke about the architecture and makeup of the land. He sounded so knowledgeable whenever he talked about it. For a moment she admired his obvious insight in an area she nothing about, and was reassured by his confidence. But then she remembered his utterly groundless confidence in finding the oasis he kept talking about. She took a breath to question him further, but he interrupted before she spoke yet again.

"Why did you cover yourself in all that muck? It makes you look super gross. Plus, it looks uncomfortable. Like, itch at the roof of your mouth in the way back so you have to scratch it with your tongue and it makes you look like a dork level of uncomfortable."

Renna felt herself fuming on the inside. A quiet whisper of rage at the insult stoked the embers in her elemental spark. She shook her head to clear her mind and said in the calmest voice she could muster, "Because my scales are really bright, and we are on an important mission and cannot be seen walking around Avalar by the armies of the Dark Master."

At the mention of Malefor, Quincy's good natured expression wilted and he turned his eyes forward. They had reached the end of the canyon and were faced with another fork in the path. Quincy burrowed his head into the sandy dune before them and was still for a moment before surfacing and nudging his head to the left again. "This way," he said, much more sober than before.

Renna wasn't sure whether she welcomed the change in his attitude. The seriousness was a nice change of pace, but word of the Dark Master clearly made him uncomfortable. Renna cleared her throat a little and kept walking with him, speaking slowly. "You do know of his return to Avalar, do you not?"

Quincy raised an eyebrow and tilted his head. "Hard not to. What with all the fuss he's been making. I've heard the stories as I'm sure all of you have. You know, about the last time he was free." Quincy shook his head and snorted. "It's worse this time. Different. He's not taking any prisoners. Before he enslaved the people of the lands he invaded, those too weak to fight back. But this time..."

Renna watched as Quincy screwed his eyes up and shook his head more violently. She looked down at the sand passing beneath their paws with each step. "I'm sorry."

"Me too," said Quincy through his teeth. "My whole entire family."

Quincy stopped and buried his head in the sand again, his body shaking. Renna looked back at her friends. They all shared the same apologetic looks. Roxy looked up at Renna from Quincy's quivering form. "Makes you glad to be from Warfang, eh?"

Tera nudged Roxy in the ribs, "Shut it, will you? Try a little sympathy maybe?"

"Sorry," said Roxy as he rubbed his chest. "I didn't mean—"

Quincy pulled his head out of the sand and rolled his head on his shoulders. "No, it's cool. I get where you're coming from. No hard feelings, mate. So you lot are from Warfang? That explains how you're all looking so fine and fit. City life will do that to you from what I've heard."

Renna looked Quincy up and down with a quick flit of her eyes. It was somewhat jarring how quickly he'd rallied. He seemed different now. More matter of fact and to the point. "Yes," she said as she followed him through the canyon once again. "We're on a mission from the great dragon city to put an end to this war."

Quincy looked Renna up and down, criticism replacing the carefree mirth that had filled his face moments ago. "And they sent younglings on such a mission? Things going that badly, are they?"

Renna shook her head, understanding his skepticism. "It's a long story."

"It's a long walk to the oasis."

Renna rolled her eyes at that. "You don't even know where it is."

"Sure I do," said Quincy, his face expressionless. "I've remembered where it is. I'm taking you there now. It's not terribly far, but we have to take a circuitous path to avoid the nightmares." He punctuated this statement by plunging his head into the dune they had reached. He surfaced moments later and nudged his head left yet again. "This way."

Renna narrowed her eyes at Quincy, unsure of what to make of him. "Why should we trust you?"

Quincy shrugged his shoulders and nudged his head the other way. "By all means, don't. Go the other way. Just remember I told you it was the wrong way." He turned and walked down the left path.

Renna turned to face the others. They huddled in a circle as she leaned forward to speak. "What do you guys think? This Quincy guy is weird. I don't know if it's such a good idea to keep following him."

Tera held a paw out to be heard. "I think he's been through a lot. He's been living all alone out in the desert for months, unable to find his way out. His family was probably wiped out by Malefor's forces. And now he's just trying to find his way while surviving on sandworms and oasis water. You should give him a break, Renna. I think he's harmless."

Sora leaned forward when Tera was finished. "We also need to consider the fact that he is not from Warfang. He must belong to a nomadic colony or some other clan. His ways are no doubt different from what we're used to. What you may take for strange may be his norm. Judging him for his alien personality is a mistake."

Roxy looked over Renna's shoulder to Quincy, who was now pressing forward and no longer looking back. Roxy leaned into the huddle again and said, "I'm with Tera. I think the poor guy's just lost. Like, in more ways than one, you know? I think we should follow him for now."

All heads turned to Renna. She looked them all in the eyes and glanced back at Quincy shrinking into the distance. Then she turned to look down the path Quincy hadn't taken. She stared into the now fully darkened canyon, the shadows beneath the dunes like pools of ink. She was about to look back at her friends again when she saw something slip into the shadow of the dune on the far end of the canyon.

Her eyes widened in horror and she lowered her voice to a barely audible whisper. "We're being followed. Quickly, let's catch up with Quincy."

They didn't need to be told twice. The rest of the group silently ran, their paws gliding over the sand as they swiftly gained on Quincy. By the time they caught up with him he was approaching the base of the dune at the end of the canyon. He turned and gave them a tight lipped smirk. "Oh, goody. They're right on our tails, aren't they?"

Renna stepped closer to Quincy, feeling strangely safer next to him. "How do you know?" she said in amazement.

Quincy turned back around and buried his head in the sand once again. When he pulled it back out he urged them left. "I've been checking on their locations. You know, feeling them out at the end of each canyon. They're scouring the area surrounding our little battleground back there. But like I said, they all act like they share the same brain or something. They search the dunes systematically in a pattern. So long as we follow the pattern, we'll stay in their blind spot. They didn't see you, did they?"

Renna shook her head. "I don't think so," she said as she kept pace with Quincy's rapid footsteps.

"Good. If they do, they'll hone in on the last location they saw you and start the searching process over from there, and I'd rather not lead them too close to the oasis, lest they discover my precious hideout. As it is, it'll be another hour before we reach it. And as late as it is, I'd rather not stay out much longer. For now we should keep quiet and stay together, or else they'll hear us or smell us. All of their senses are phenomenal, but as long as we keep at least one canyon over it is physically impossible for them to hear us. And the wind will blow the sand around, which scatters the only thing in this desert for our scent to cling to. Stick with me and do as I say, and you'll make it through this night."

And so they did. For the rest of the journey they remained mostly silent save for a few whispered instructions from Quincy. Their trek through the desert ended up taking twice as long as forecasted by their guide. Quincy attributed it to the fact that they must have been spotted when they hesitated without him. But thanks to Quincy's experience with the creatures and his curious talent for feeling the vibrations of their movement through the sands, he was able to navigate them safely between Pestilence's forces and out of their search radius.

It was the middle of the night by the time they found the oasis hidden amid a cluster of four dunes and some rocky outcrops that hid the trees and the grass from view. Only the light of the stars and the moons reflected off the water in the pool at its center made it easy to spot at night. Quincy walked to the edge of the water and took a long draught to slake his thirst from the night of travel. After that he found himself a patch of grass to flop down on and turned to address the rest of the party.

"Well, it took forever, hauling you bunch around, but we made it. I told you we'd find the place, ye of little faith."

Renna traced a claw in the sand and bowed her head. "I want to apologize for earlier. I was concerned with the safety of my friends and I didn't trust you when I should have all along. I thought you were a bit silly and didn't take you seriously, but I don't know what we would have done if you hadn't shown up and helped us. We are in your debt."

Quincy raised a single eyebrow at Renna and nodded his head. "Cool. Apology accepted. And I'll think of something to cash in that favor for in the morning. For now I am tired. The day has been long for me and I need my beauty sleep. So do you from the looks of you."

Renna felt another flicker of irritation as Quincy gave her a smirk and rolled over. Renna turned her attention to the waters of the oasis and made her way to the shore, allowing her friends to get a drink before she muddied the water for a bit. Once she had satisfied her thirst, she waded into the pool and walked to the middle. The water was surprisingly deep here, coming just short of her chin.

She dipped her head under and rolled around in the refreshing embrace of the oasis spring. She could feel the dirt that had stuck to her scales for far too long sifting off her body, leaving her scales sparkling and clean.

When she had gotten the last of it she surfaced and made her way toward the edge of the pool where Sora sat waiting for her. Renna emerged from the water and shook herself dry, sending a flurry of water drops flying in all directions. After she was finished she stepped closer to Sora to hear what she had to say.

The wind dragoness looked thoughtfully at Quincy. "He's already fast asleep. Not even Roxy's boisterous comments about finding the oasis seem able to stir him." She looked back at Renna and gave her a tiny smile. "He really did save us."

"I know he did," said Renna. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised. It's just he didn't exactly make a—well, an impressive first impression."

"Looks can be deceiving," said Sora as she looked back at Quincy with a more sympathetic expression than before. "For example, he may seem well adjusted to his new life and capable of taking care of himself, but I think he is hurting. There is much pain inside him after all that he has been through, and I think he is hiding from it. He should not be here, all alone with no one to talk to or rely on."

Renna looked at Quincy and back at Sora. "What are you saying?"

Sora looked out across the spring and curled her tail over her paws. "We met here in the Mira Desert, one of the vastest and most barren places in all of Avalar. And it happened when we needed him the most. Seems unlikely, to say the least. Perhaps fate has something in store for us all. Maybe we weren't the only ones who needed saving."

Sora left Renna with that thought and curled up next to Tera and Roxy for the comfort of warmth in the icy chill of the desert night. Renna watched Quincy as he squirmed and kicked in his sleep apart from the others. He made little growling and whimpering noises as undoubtedly unpleasant dreams pricked him in his slumber.

For a moment Renna looked back and forth between Quincy and her friends. After several seconds of hesitation she let out a tiny sigh and curled up next to Quincy. There were already three of the others huddled together, after all. It wasn't fair for Quincy to be all alone. Sure dragons could withstand freezing temperatures, but he would no doubt sleep easier when warm. Only ice dragons actually preferred the cold.

As she settled down, he kicked out at her and the digits of his back paw wrapped around her leg in a grip that felt like it was going to break her bones. She barely suppressed a scream as she quickly peeled his digits back one at a time until she was able to pry herself free from the still sleeping dragon. The spot where he had grabbed her was sore and could potentially bother her to some degree tomorrow, a hindrance she did not look forward to.

"That's what I get for being nice to you, I suppose," she said with a scowl. She trudged away from Quincy and curled up next to Sora and Tera, remaining awake to perform the first shift of the watch.

She awoke to Sora gently shaking her awake. "I think it's time we got moving again. We slept half the night away. We're behind schedule."

Renna stretched and got to her feet, blinking the sleep from her eyes and looking around the oasis. Roxy and Tera were already up and drinking from the pool, but Quincy was still asleep. Renna walked over toward the fire dragon and prodded him with her tail spade, making sure to keep her distance from the unpredictable youngling. He certainly was a heavy sleeper. Even with her nudging him and the sounds of her friends preparing for departure, she still could not rouse him.

She reached out with a paw and gave his shoulder a shove. "Hey, Quincy."

Still nothing.

Renna knit her eyebrows together and held a paw out to him. A bright light filled the oasis and a scream split the stillness of the morning air. When the light dimmed away, Quincy was crouched and shielding his eyes with his wings. When he peeked out from under them and beheld Renna looking down at him, his eyes grew wide.

"Wow! What was that? And who are you?"

Renna flicked her tail and turned her head with a thin smile. "What's the matter? Don't you recognize me?"

Quincy squinted at Renna for a moment, his mouth hanging open. "Renna? Is that you?"

"The one and only," she said.

"But you're—you're beautiful."

Renna blinked at Quincy's forwardness. She knew that she was, of course, but hearing Quincy come right out and say it made her face hot. "Y-yeah well, this is what I always look like when I'm not trying to go unnoticed."

"Which is never," said Roxy in a barely audible voice somewhere behind her.

Renna whirled around and looked at Roxy in surprise. "I beg your pardon?"

Roxy lowered his head and held both paws up. "What? You don't like the attention? Could have fooled me, what with the way you parade around all the time."

"I do not," said Renna.

"Like mother like daughter," said Roxy.

"You don't even know my mother," said Renna rather quickly.

"No, but I've heard stories from Wither." When he saw the look on Renna's face he flapped his arms quickly and said, "Not that he was saying anything bad about her, mind you. He just mentioned that she was an ice dragon and all that implies."

"Not all ice dragons match the stereotypes, Roxy," said Renna with another, more powerful flick of her tail.

Roxy looked down at the sand at his feet. "No, and certainly not your mother, right?"

Renna sighed and shook her head before turning back to Quincy. His eyes snapped up to her face as she rounded on him and he cocked his head to the side. "Who's Wither?"

"A friend," said Renna. Quincy looked a little hurt by her curt response, so Renna took a breath and calmed herself before continuing. "He's a friend of ours."

Quincy's brow worried a bit and he leaned forward to quietly ask, "Did you get separated?"

Renna shook her head. "Not exactly, we took different paths away from the city. We figured separating into two groups would make us less conspicuous."

For a moment Quincy just blinked at Renna. "From the city?" Then his eyes grew wide and he sat up straight with a look of glee spreading across his face. "You mean Warfang? That's the only dragon city I know of. Are you guys from there?"

Quincy looked at each of them excitedly, his tail wagging like that of a hatchling. Renna exchanged confused glances with her friends before turning back to Quincy. "Uh, yeah. We told you where we're from last night. Remember?"

Still grinning from horn to horn, Quincy shook his head. "I sure don't, but man is that exciting. I've always wanted to go there, you know? See it all for myself. I will someday. I just couldn't before because my family never let me leave home. They said I'd have to wait until I was older to travel on my own. Oh, I have so many questions. How big is it? How many dragons live there? What do you do all the time? Do you have school or do you work all day?"

Renna waved her paw to quiet the tide of curiosity. "Hold on a minute. What do you mean you don't remember we're from Warfang? We told you that just last night."

Quincy shrugged his shoulders at the question and said, "I don't know. I just don't remember. I've slept since then. Apparently. I don't remember how we got back to the oasis either. Do you? I've always wondered how I wind up back here each morning. I leave for the edge of the desert when I wake up, but then somewhere in the middle of the day things get a little fuzzy. Then a lot fuzzy. And then I wake up here. It's really annoying. I've been trying to get to Warfang for like four months, but ever since I found this oasis during my travels, I haven't been able to leave.

"I mean, I never really knew where I was going in the first place on account of the fact that I've never exactly been to Warfang, or left home for that matter. So I was a little lost ever since I struck out to find the great dragon city, but now I feel trapped. I guess."

Quincy ignored the growing expressions of astonishment on Renna and the others' faces and traced a claw in the sand. "I don't know. I was exhausted when I found this place. I stayed the night here when I first found it. The nights here. Gosh. They're just so… You can see the stars. The air is so fresh, so clean, so unspoiled. I just felt so at peace when I lay here, looking up at the sky. I thought I'd never want to leave."

He lowered his head to regard them again and said with a wistful look in his eyes, "Maybe some part of me just doesn't want to leave this place behind. Out here in the middle of nowhere, it was the first time I felt safe after…"

Quincy trailed away, clearly losing himself to painful memories that welled up after his rambling. Renna looked to Sora and widened her eyes a little more. Sora seemed to get the hint. She walked over to Quincy and sat down in front of him. She lifted his face with a paw under his chin and looked straight into his eyes, something she never did with anyone she had only known for a day.

With the soothing care of a mother comforting a babe, she said, "You've been through so much, haven't you?"

A glossy sheen covered Quincy's eyes. He blinked them shut for several seconds before opening them again with a fluttering movement, careful not to let anything leak back out. "I can't," he said so quietly Renna could barely hear him from where she sat watching just a few feet away.

Sora lowered her paw and raised her head a fraction. "You can't what?"

Quincy screwed his eyes shut again and shook his head vigorously. Renna thought that perhaps he was trying to bury a memory that Sora was attempting to coax to the surface. But whatever the reason, he stopped and brushed a paw across his snout before looking off into the horizon between two of the dunes surrounding the oasis.

Sora rose to her feet and brushed the sand off her belly. "There's a big world out there, Quincy. It's filled with lots of people. Cheetahs, dragons, moles, and so many others."

At the mention of moles, she had Quincy's attention once more. She continued while he listened intently to what she had to say. "Some are wicked, it's true. But others are kind, loving, honest, brave, and funny," she nudged him at this last remark. "You have to take it all in if you're going to live in this world. Out here, in isolation, you get nothing. Just mere survival. No better than a simple animal."

Quincy looked away again, back toward the horizon past the dunes. Sora swished her tail slowly over Quincy's nervous doodles in the sand, wiping them clean to leave the sand smooth. "Everyone deserves a fresh start, a chance to begin anew. Come with us, if you like. I can't promise that it won't be dangerous. Our mission is one of great peril. But the cause is just, and we have many well honed skills and other talents to protect us. If all goes according to plan, then Malefor will be brought to justice. And when that happens, he won't be able to hurt anyone ever again. Because this time, we seek a away to put him down for good. You've proven yourself to possess excellent survival skills. And we've all seen your natural ability to evade unwanted attention. You could prove vital to our success. Will you help us?"

Quincy instantly nodded vigorously. "Yes. Yes, I want to get out of this desert. I wanted to find Warfang so I could gather an army of dragons to invade my homeland and chase out those vile apes who killed my family so that I can take back Munitions Forge."

When Quincy finished speaking Renna felt her shoulders slump in disbelief. "Wait a minute. Your home is Munitions Forge?"

At the sound of her surprise Quincy looked up with questioning eyes. "Yes. The moles who lived there raised me. My mother was a nomad traveling alone. She came to Munitions Forge because she had always wanted to see it, so the moles say she told them. But then she had her egg while she was there. The next morning she was gone. Turns out the real reason she went to Munitions Forge was because the volcano made an excellent place for an egg to incubate all alone without the care of an unwilling mother. She never came back. No one ever came for me. So the moles were my family. At least until—"

The words were cut short as Quincy started to hyperventilate and began looking around for a sandy patch away from the grass to bury his head, but Sora placed a paw on his cheek and carefully pulled his head to face her. "It's okay. What happened was horrible, and things will never be the same for you. But you will be okay."

Quincy closed his eyes tight in a grimace of agony, but his breathing slowed once more. The memory of losing his family was clearly too much for him, Renna thought. He would need much time and support to overcome the trauma he had endured. Just then Renna gasped and sat up straight again. "Hold on. You said they all died. The moles?"

After hearing it said aloud Quincy appeared about to wail, but Renna hastily continued her thought. "Mole-Yair and Exhumor are alive."

Chest still heaving uncontrollably, Quincy opened his eyes in shock and allowed a single tear to flow out of each eye and run down his face. "What? How do you—"

"They arrived safely in Warfang not long after Munitions Forge was attacked. They've been living in Mjölnir while the war rages on the surface. They're both okay."

"Mole-Yair and Exhumor are alive?" said Quincy in disbelief. He looked down and hiccupped. "I saw so many consumed by the flames that I didn't even consider some might have gotten away. I thought they were all gone."

Renna watched curiously as Quincy's eyes flitted from side to side in thought. "I don't even remember leaving Munitions Forge. I just sat in my secret hiding spot like a coward while my family was blown up. I could have helped them, but instead I ran."

"It was the best thing you could have done," said Sora in the most reassuring voice. "You wouldn't have been able to stop Arragor."

Quincy looked back at Sora then, a look of understanding slowly molding his features. "Arragor. Is that the name of the fire dragon in black armor?"

Sora nodded once, seemingly unsure what to make of Quincy's reaction. Quincy looked down at the sand once again. He appeared to be deep in thought. After a long pause he looked up and said, "I'll do it. I'll help you defeat Malefor. And when he's dead, I want you to help me kill this Arragor."

"Deal," said Roxy immediately.

Tera looked at him in surprise and said, "Now hold on. Who put you in charge of signing us up for that?"

"It's part of the mission anyway, as far as I can tell," said Roxy with a shrug of his wings. "It may even be necessary to kill Arragor before we can get to Malefor anyway. Even if we can bring Arragor into custody, do you really think Yarrow will set him free after what he's done? Treason and siege is one thing, but genocide? He's already dead. He's just still twitching around a lot."

Quincy rose to his feet and wiped the tears away from his eyes. "All right. It's settled then."

He reached out his paws and dug fiercely into the sand, pulling out sandworms seconds later. "Eat up, everyone. We've a long journey ahead of us. The desert is a tricky place and full of nothing but sand and nightmares aside from this oasis. We're going to need to be at our peak strength when we set out. Oh, that reminds me. Where are we going?"

They explained to Quincy the nature of the war and how it started, filling in the many blanks for him to catch him up while they ate. Once they finished telling him they were on their way to see the Chronicler, Quincy sat back, taking it all in.

"Wow, that Wither friend of yours sure is something," said Quincy in a way that Renna could not decipher. Quincy snapped to attention and rose to his feet to take one last drink from the oasis pool. When he had had his fill he spread his wings with an even wider smile and said, "Ready when you lot are."

Renna got her fill of water along with the rest of the group and they set out, following Quincy northwest through the desert. It was sun high by the time they left the oasis and the desert was hot enough to bake a lesser being. But Renna found the heat relaxing. She had slept well enough during the night, but the desert heat threatened to slowly plunge her into a drowsy stupor.

She could tell that the rest of her friends were feeling the effects of the desert as well, for they were dragging their tails and taking extra care to lift their paws high so as not to trip over their own feet while trudging through the sand. More than anything Renna wanted to roll over and bury herself in the scorching powder, but they had a long way to go, and they had to make good progress in a short span if they were to be successful in making it out of the desert alive.

Renna looked to the front of the party where Quincy led them on with a bounce in his step and a flurry of questions about Warfang and life as a dragon amongst other dragons. He must be used to the desert, she thought while he rattled on. Either that or being a fire dragon made him immune to the intoxicating atmosphere of the Mira Desert. Then again, if he had spent all his life amongst the moles who lived at Munitions Forge, he very well could have worked up his resistance to the lulling heat there.

Either way it was a good thing. His never ending stream of questions kept their minds occupied as they answered his curiosities. It became abundantly clear after a while just how sheltered Quincy was from dragon life. It was almost as though he had never seen another of his own kind. When Renna asked him, he confirmed her suspicions, claiming that Arragor had been the first dragon he had ever seen apart from himself.

She tried to imagine what that must have been like, being raised by a different species with no real parents and no one from your own race to talk to. His Great Awakening must have been a confusing time for him as Renna doubted that any of the moles knew much about the changes his body was going through at the time. Not to mention the fact that there was so much about both his people and himself that he had yet to even begin to learn. He couldn't get a proper education befitting a dragon living with moles. There were so many secrets passed down from generation to generation among the dragons. There were fighting techniques to perfect, elemental moves to practice, long lines of ancestry to study, survival skills to hone. Quincy could learn none of that from any teacher among the moles. They had very different lessons to offer their young, some of which Quincy had already seemed to pick up on.

But most of all, Renna couldn't help but feel sorry for Quincy. He had been abandoned to the moles by his own mother, who hadn't cared enough for her own egg to be there when it hatched. She hadn't returned to retrieve him in the twelve and a half years since his hatching and likely never intended to. What kind of mother did that? Renna wondered if all nomadic dragons who wandered the lands of Avalar outside the structured order that could be found within the walls of Warfang were so callous. Or was it just their way? Maybe in this respect they were so culturally different from dragons who lived in the capital that their way of life seemed so completely alien despite their shared ancestry.

Quincy continued to lead them northwest through the desert, closer to their goal. They trudged along with him through the dips between the dunes at his insistence. He had cautioned that flight may still very well be a bad idea as the nightmares, as he had dubbed them, would likely see them even from a great distance. It wouldn't be safe to fly until they were well away from the desert that the creatures roamed so freely.

At the end of each ravine he would burrow his head into the next dune before choosing a path to take. His ability to feel out the vibrations of movement nearby proved invaluable as the day wore on. Several times it prevented a run in with the beasts that made up Pestilence's forces. They only had Quincy's word to go on as they never sensed the creatures nor saw any sign of their presence, but after the events of the night before, Renna knew all too well what Quincy was capable of.

It wasn't until late evening that Quincy paused after he pulled his head out of the dune before them. He looked over his shoulder at the rest of the group and shook his head. "Oh, you're not going to like this."

"What is it?" said Tera from her place beside him.

With a knowing look of worry, Quincy rolled his head around. "Trouble. The nightmares have circled us."

"You mean we're trapped?" said Roxy, his eyes shifting around nervously. "What are we supposed to do now?"

Quincy shook his head again. "I don't know. I've never been caught before. Or when I am I fly away and land somewhere to run between the canyons in random directions. Then it takes several hours to lose them."

"We don't have that kind of time," said Renna.

"And we can't deviate from our course too much," said Sora. "We have to get through the desert quickly or we won't be able to do it at all."

"So what? We fight?" said Quincy. He sounded unsure of the idea.

"That's what we did last time they attacked us," said Renna.

"Yeah, but I only jumped in because you were doing really well," said Quincy. "I was never able to fight them on my own."

"You're not alone anymore," said Tera as she nudged his side with her nose. "We have each other. You may not possess the formal training from a master, but all of us do. Plus, we've absorbed like a dozen or so blue crystals each, so our powers are strong for our age."

Quincy blinked. "Blue crystals? You mean the ones that go inside you when you touch them?"

"Yeah," said Tera. "Have you ever seen one before?"

Quincy laughed. He held his stomach for a second while he calmed down and caught his breath. "Seen one? Do you have any idea how many of those things form in the Munitions Forge caverns? I had no idea they made our elements stronger. I just absorbed them because they always made me feel tingly inside."

"You've absorbed blue crystals, too?" said Renna as she watched the edges of the dunes for movement.

"Thousands. Why?"

Renna slowly turned her gaze away from the tops of the dunes. Everyone was staring at Quincy. He blinked at them all and shifted around nervously on his feet. "What? Is that a bad thing? Come on, guys. The last time everyone stared at me like this, I laced their pickaxes with phosphorus. Oh, they weren't happy."

"Quincy," said Roxy with his paws held out, pads skyward, "Why are you afraid of Pestilence's forces? I've never heard of a single dragon absorbing that many blue crystals."

Quincy shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. Maybe because they're horrifying? Have you seen them? They look like they ought to be dead. I don't want those things anywhere near me."

Renna stalked over and shoved her face in Quincy's. "What are you doing holding back that kind of power? You could be torching a path through this blasted desert rather than sneaking through the dunes like you're playing some childish game of hide and seek. We've been wasting our time."

She expected him to present what she would assume he thought a solid case in his defense. What she got was a look of confusion. "What are you talking about? I can't do anything like that. I'm just a kid."

Renna was about to reply, but Roxy interrupted her thoughts. "Uh, guys. They're here."

One of the dogs stricken by Pestilence's magical taint crested the dune to their left and padded toward them at a casual pace. It walked alone, indicating that it was a mere messenger, though many others were no doubt surrounding them even now. When it was most of the way into the canyon it stopped on the slope of the dune a good twenty paces away and sat.

This dog was not nearly so run down as the ones that had met them on the plains earlier, but it still carried the scent of decay which now wafted up into their nostrils in nauseating waves. The smell intensified when it opened its mouth to speak. "Hello again, everyone. We see you've befriended the newcomer who helped you last time."

"Oh, good granite, they can talk," said Quincy who appeared be trying to burrow back into the dune behind them.

"Indeed," said the dog as it faced Quincy. "We don't think we've ever formally met, though we have tried to welcome you to the horde for some time now. You are an elusive one. And such brutality. We have never seen such raw ability from any fire dragon. The things we've seen you do. Why, you might even be a match for our good friend, War. You'd make a superb addition to the Phylum."

Quincy stopped backing into the sand. He shook his head, eyes wide and confused. "What? I don't know what you're talking about. I'm no fighter. I've only ever run from you lovely bunch. Terribly shy and all that. Darned crippling social anxiety."

"Lies," said the dog, silencing Quincy. It narrowed its eyes at him in an indecipherable expression. "We thought you were just a lost little youngling separated from your family when we first happened upon you. But when we tried to help you, you brought oblivion down upon us. You're not the helpless child you pretend to be, nor are you any typical warrior. You're a monster."

Quincy shook his head at the dog as it spoke, his eyes awash with helplessness. His voice quivered in reply. "No. You're wrong. I never hurt anyone. Not like that. Maybe some of my pranks go a little too far sometimes, but I never wanted to hurt people. I'm not like you or your War friend, Pestilence."

Desperately, Quincy looked all around at Renna and the others. "My new friends told me about you. They say you're the ones responsible for murdering my family. You say I'm a match for War. I don't believe it for a second. But you can bet your life I'll get my revenge. My new friends and I will kill Arragor for what he did to the noble moles of Munitions Forge!"

Renna was taken aback by the ferocity of Quincy's speech. It was as though he had become another dragon entirely. The once happy go lucky youngling's eyes were now filled with hate, and his scales were bristling as though he were preparing for attack.

The dog did not seem to notice the change in Quincy's demeanor. It sat calmly in the sand and watched Quincy with apparent interest. "So, the moles there were your family now, were they? And yet, when you could have stood against the army that slaughtered them in their own home, did you stand tall and protect them? No. You ran away. You came here to doze in the sleepy sands of Mira Desert and forget your troubles."

Quincy said nothing. He sat ridged and poured every ounce of venom into his glare that he could, breathing deep, his pace quickening.

The dog pushed on, goading him ever more. "You probably could have saved them. We have seen your power here. Their deaths were meaningless, as was any love they may have had for you. Your so called family is dead. And it is not so totally War's fault." The dog raised a paw and motioned toward Quincy. "It's yours, too."

Quincy raised his paw and held it outward toward the dog. A golden glow accumulated there in the center of his paw. Slowly, a tiny flickering red orb expanded. It grew no larger than a marble, though it rapidly shrank and expanded a fraction. A sound like hissing turned steadily into a screech as a warm wind rushed in, funneling around Quincy. The speck held aloft between his claws waxed a brilliant blue before whiting out entirely.

All the while the dog creature sat by and watched the process unfold with a glint in its eyes. As the screaming vortex around Quincy rose in a violent crescendo, winds whipping up a small sand storm around his body, the voice of the dog could barely be heard. "Witness his majesty."

Just when Renna found that it was getting difficult to breathe, the miniature sun leapt from Quincy's outstretched paw. A quiet yet firm noise like something large compressed to the size of a claw tip and suddenly released was the only sensation Renna had before the dog was vaporized in an instant. A trail of fire nearly ten tail lengths wide carved a path straight through the next four dunes over, melting down the sand and leaving a glowing corridor straight through the desert for nearly a mile.

When Renna recovered her senses and saw the devastation Quincy had wrought, she turned to regard the still glowering fire dragon. He lowered his paw and blinked his eyes several times, probably to clear the image burned into his vision. He turned and looked at Renna, cocking an eyebrow.

"Why, you look almost as though you're afraid of me. What's the matter, Sparkles? Did I singe your scales by mistake? Next time I charge up like that, maybe take a couple steps back."

At last Renna released the breath she didn't know she had been holding. Just when she thought she was getting used to Quincy, he completely flipped her opinion of him over. Who was this strange dragon who now called them his friends?

Around her Tera and Roxy were regaining their composure. Sora had never once moved. Not even when Quincy had unleashed his attack did she look away from him. And as he addressed Renna, Sora's face slowly scrunched up into a look of what Renna thought was confusion and suspicion.

Roxy craned his neck to peer through the opening in the sand dunes. "By the ancestors, what was that?" He turned to look at Quincy with his mouth agape. "I thought you said you couldn't do anything like that? Guess we know what's what now, huh?"

Tera shook her head whether in disbelief or disappointment, for Renna could not tell. "You really were just messing around with us. The whole time you could have helped us out of the desert in a straight path, but you've been leading us on foot through the dunes. You've been wasting our time."

Roxy shifted his paws uncomfortably and appeared to think for a moment before finally working up the nerve to speak again. "And what the dog said was true, too. You could have saved your family."

Quincy turned to face Roxy, a fierce resolve in his eyes. Roxy flinched but ventured to finish his thought. "So why didn't you?"

"Because he couldn't," said Sora. She stepped forward, gaining Quincy's attention once more. She slowly walked toward him, holding his gaze, his intensity matched by her serenity. When she was a paw step away, he raised his paw toward her. She stopped and reached out, placing her paw over his own with slow deliberation, and steadily lowered it to the sand. "Could you?" she asked.

He shook his head. "You don't know anything about me."

"We will learn," said Sora. "If you are willing to share your story with us. I'm sure there's much more to you than any of us previously thought. I could tell when I first laid eyes on you that you were in pain. You keep your suffering close to your heart. It's easy to ignore it that way, I know, but it makes you vulnerable, too."

Quincy stared at her, his hard eyes unblinking. Renna could feel every muscle in her body tensed in case he lashed out at her. It was clear that he was unstable and unpredictable. The danger he posed was greater than any of them had known. As she watched Sora talk with him, Renna was conscious of the null crystal resting at her breast, waiting for permission to satisfy its yawning hunger, if only for a moment.

Sora continued when Quincy said nothing. "When we keep our pain inside where we can't see it, it festers and spreads like a poison. It corrupts us…breaks us. I didn't consider when I first saw you just how hurt you really are. You put on a strong face, a delightfully playful front to cover dreadful wounds too deep to fathom. At least that's what I thought back at the oasis."

Sora paused and placed her paw back over Quincy's with great care. "But now, after watching you, after listening to you talk for a couple days, I think I see something that I hadn't before."

Quincy raised his head and stared down his nose at Sora as she continued. "I want you to know that I don't blame you for not telling us about your strength sooner. I don't think it's your fault that you didn't save your family. And I am not afraid of you."

Sora raised her head too and the predatory look in Quincy's eyes withered away, leaving him looking bewildered and nervous. Sora lowered her head and sat down in front of Quincy. She flicked her tail to Renna and the others three times, once at each of them. A signal that she knew what she was doing. Renna relaxed her muscles and breathed once again. She saw Roxy and Tera do the same.

Once all of the hostility in the air had gone, Quincy seemed able to relax a bit more, though the way he held himself was still a bit off by Renna's assessment. He still seemed too serious, more focused than she was used to.

Sora smiled warmly at Quincy and said, "Now, if my suspicions are correct, I do believe introductions are in order."

Renna furrowed her brow and exchanged confused looks with Roxy and Tera before looking back to Sora and Quincy.

Sora reached out her paw, mimicking the strange gesture Quincy had made toward them when they first met him yesterday. "My name is Sora. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Quincy looked down and took Sora's paw in his, their claws grasping together awkwardly. He then shook her foreleg slowly. "I know who you are. You can call me Haze."


End file.
